


until the stars are all alight

by restless (cabinfever)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Burns, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 15:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6334504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinfever/pseuds/restless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam is a retired former astronaut with the World Space Agency in the year 2134. He was once the ace pilot and pride of Britain until tragedy pushed him out of the service. He's approached by astrophysicist Louis to join a crew that's being assembled to go rescue an astronaut left on the Mars Space Station. This is Zayn Malik.  Liam is the only pilot available with the experience necessary to fly a mission to a damaged station.</p><p>Slowish burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	until the stars are all alight

**Author's Note:**

> my first big bang fic!!! woo!
> 
> i worked with the wonderful [measureyourself](http://www.measureyourself.tumblr.com) on this! She made a mix that you can find [here!](http://8tracks.com/nikkisofiaa/rising-with-the-morning-tide)
> 
> find me at [rocketshipliam](rocketshipliam.tumblr.com)!

_ Mars Space Station Log _

_ 28 August 2134, 14:05 _

 

_ “This is Astronaut Zayn Malik of the World Space Agency. This is my first log aboard the Mars Space Station. The space shuttle  _ Integrity  _ has successfully docked with the MSS just as it passed Deimos, one of Mars’ moons. I am aboard along with my crewmates Ben Winston and Anthony Riach. Our mission is to observe the nearby asteroid movements surrounding the Proxima Centauri system as well as test a microgravity irrigation system and its effects upon the growth of pea plants. I will try to log our information as often as possible.” _

 

_ Mars Space Station Log _

_ 29 August 2134, 09:56 _

 

_ “Astronaut Malik, checking in. Astronaut Riach has begun to run initial tests on the new irrigation system. There was a minor leak due to microfractures that occurred in transit, but it was quickly remedied by a roll of duct tape. The pea plant seedlings have been planted in the compartment. I’m still curious to see which direction they’ll grow in. Ant reckons that they’ll just grow away from the soil. Imagine if they grew into the soil, though. Would be cool as hell. Anyway, um, the tests are running according to plan and the observational telescope has been calibrated to our assigned sector. More to come soon.” _

 

_ Mars Space Station Log _

_ 30 August 2134, 17:38 _

 

_ “This is Astronaut Ben Winston. Astronaut Malik is currently in the upper observation deck and monitoring Astronaut Riach’s progress on the exterior of the station. There was a minor hydraulic malfunction in the exterior door earlier, but we fixed the locking system so it should work just fine now. Riach is testing it now. Progress is looking great. Mars is beautiful, you know. Can’t wait to get some photographs.” _

 

Mars Space Station

3 September 2134, 11:54

 

Zayn reached up and flipped a switch beside one of the video monitors at his console. The main control room of the Mars Space Station was one of his favorite places to stay. Ant always teased him for bringing his coffee rations up here to work. But Zayn knew he’d have the last laugh soon enough when he’d get a raise for working extra hours instead of taking free time. Besides, the control room wasn’t all work. He wouldn’t tell anyone just yet, but he’d reprogrammed a bot so that it’d mess with the lads whenever he deemed it right. He just was waiting for the right moment.

“You’re good from my end,” he said into the intercom beside him. “Ant, how’s the view up there?”

“Better than you’d think,” Ant called back through the speakers. Zayn’s gaze flicked to the viewscreen where he could see his friend tinkering with a telescope outside of the station. “Send Ben up here, will you? I’d like him to help me get out of my gear. I’m almost done.”

Zayn swiveled in his seat and jerked his head towards the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder to where Ben Winston floated at the corner of the room, watching the monitors intently. “Go help him out, would you?” he asked.

“Why don’t you?”

Zayn flashed him a winning smile. “I’m working.”

Ben clapped him on the back before he somersaulted out into the corridor. “Keep an eye on things for us, eh, Malik?”

Zayn grinned after him, flipping him the bird before Ben was all the way around the corner. “I’m supervising!” he countered, and he snorted at Ben’s answering guffaw. “Don’t act like I’m not the one keeping us from blowing ourselves up! Without me, you’d be out of a job!” When Ben’s grumbling petered out, Zayn swiveled back to his station, watching the monitors as Ben made his way through the station towards the upper observation deck. Ant was making his way towards the door to the station, moving hand over hand along the station’s exterior handholds.

“Lads,” Ben suddenly said, and Zayn caught a glimpse of him settling into a chair on the deck, “do you think I’m the best photographer in the WSA?”

“You wish you were,” Zayn offered, grinning when Ben spat a good-natured curse through the comm. “Maybe the best from England, but even that’s a stretch.”

“Nah,” Ant joked, and there was a slight scuffle on his end as he fiddled with a strap. “Getting tangled.”

Zayn snorted, “You’re such a mess, Ant.”

Ben laughed suddenly. “Malik, you’re something else, you know that?”

“Why’s that?” Zayn asked, leaning back in his seat. He plucked a pencil from the air and twirled it in his fingers. His grip slipped after a couple of revolutions and the pencil went flying at his nose. He spluttered in surprise and batted the pencil away, instinctively looking around to make sure that nobody else had seen.

“You’ve got it all. Looks, charm, and you’re the hotshot pilot that gets to stay inside while we get to do the grunt work out here. Why don’t you come up to the upper observation deck and learn what a real astronaut does?”

Zayn sputtered in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that I’m doing the most important job on this ship by supervising!”

“And he’s humble!” Ben crowed.

“That’s the thing,” Ant hummed in response. “And I swear-”

The station jolted all of a sudden, and the intercom crackled to static. Three alarms beside Zayn started blaring in tri-toned panic. The MSS groaned as it turned, spinning unnaturally above the bleak redness of Mars. Zayn threw himself towards the control console, heart racing.

“Ant?” he cried into the comm. “Ben? What the fuck was that?”

_ “Critical depressurization detected,”  _ a woman’s cool voice informed him in an American accent. 

“The fuck does that mean?” he demanded of the system, but there was no response. The alarms seemed to grow louder. Zayn pounded his fist on the button that gave him camera views of the station, fumbling to find the ones that surrounded the upper observation deck. The image flickered into view.

The deck was empty. 

Everything in the deck that wasn’t attached to the station itself had completely vanished. Nothing remained but chaos.

Not even Ben.

“No,” Zayn muttered. “No, no, no.” His shaking hand clicked to the exterior view of the station. There was debris everywhere. The doors that separated the observation deck from the vacuum of space were wide open.

There was no sign of either of his friends.

“Ant?” Zayn cried again, screaming into the microphone. “Ant, do you read me?” Ben, Ben didn’t have a suit. Ben was sucked out into space. He couldn’t have…

A shiver of realization trickled ice into Zayn’s spine. 

“Ant?” he said lowly into the microphone again. Ant was wearing a suit. Ant should be alive.

The comm crackled to life. A weak voice came through.

“Zayn, are you there?”

Shaking, Zayn pressed the intercom button. “Yeah, Ant, I’m here. Is your suit damaged? Are you safe? In pain? Anything?”

“Surprisingly, no.” Ant’s voice was level and calm. “Ben?”

Zayn shook his head, knowing that Ant couldn’t hear him. "He wasn't wearing a suit," he offered by way of explanation. He didn't think he could say anything beyond that.

God, why was he so  _ calm? _

Ant sighed. "Poor bastard." As if he weren't in just as bad a situation. Then he took a quiet little intake of breath, not even able to be qualified as a gasp. It was just a small sound, just a broken one. “Zayn?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Ant murmured.

Zayn clutched at the edge of the table. He anchored himself to the console; steeled himself to say what he needed to do. “I can’t get out there to help you,” he managed. “You’re cut off from the MSS. I’m so sorry, Ant, fuck.”

The line crackled a bit. Ant hummed out what might have been the low moan of a sob. Zayn let him have his moment, staying as quiet as he waited out the storm. The tinny sound of his friend’s cries echoed around the MSS, and with every passing moment the cozy halls felt wider and colder and infinitely sadder. Zayn bowed his head, watching his own hands tremble against the control board.  _ All these buttons, and not one of them will save him _ . 

"Zayn, could you just, um. Stay on the line?"

"Yeah, Ant. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he swore. 

“Good,” Ant murmured. “That’s real good.”

"What can you see, Ant?"

"Earth, I think," Ant replied after a moment, and his voice was soft and hopeful beneath the pain. "Yeah, there it is. Fucking marble, looking all smug and beautiful even from here. Fucking beautiful, yeah?"

"Yeah," Zayn echoed. He noticed the wet heat of tears on his cheeks. "Do you see England?"

"I wish," Ant sighed. His voice hitched. "It's sunset, I bet. Maybe the lights are turning on." He sniffed, the sound making Zayn's heart leap. 

Zayn offered, “It’s probably dinnertime. It’s cloudy but warm. Your mum is having mine over for dinner, maybe.” Wishful thinking, and so far from home. 

"It's fucking beautiful. Most beautiful thing I've ever seen." The awe in his voice tore at Zayn's heart. "I wonder if anyone's looking up. Back home, I mean."

"I'm sure Danny is," Zayn offered. "And my mum and yours. And Ben's wife. They all see you."

"Do  _ you _ ?"

"Yeah," Zayn lied. "Yeah, Ant, I'm watching you." He couldn't. God, not yet. He couldn't watch his best friend die.

Ant sighed again. "Good." He was silent for a bit, but Zayn could hear the labored sounds of his breath. Each exhale shook a bit, hitching on every third breath. God, but he was being so strong. Zayn wished he could say the same.

"Are you there?" he asked finally, just to hear his voice again.

The reply came quickly enough. "Yeah." And then-

"Zee, I'm scared."

Finally,  _ finally _ , Zayn forced himself to look out the window. There was Mars, red and white and beautiful and formidable. There was the debris, all shining metal with light reflecting off of it as if it were a bunch of diamonds. He strained his eyes, searching for what he knew to be there. He owed Ant that much, at least. A witness. "I'm scared, too."

Ant's next words came breathily, and Zayn's heart raced all the more. The air supply was low already. Too soon, too soon. He couldn’t have used it all already, could he? "Hey, Zayn?"

"Yeah, Ant?" Zayn choked back another sob. There he was, silhouetted against the pockmarked blackness of the galaxies around them. The white of the spacesuit gleamed too innocently. He looked so, so small.

"Can you sing to me?"

A whine forced its way out of Zayn's throat against his will. He gritted his teeth and spoke into the microphone, "Which song do you want?"

"Something cheesy. Calm. Anything."

Zayn nodded, swallowing the knot in his throat. He nearly choked on it. But he raised his voice in a soft little ballad, a sweet old song from centuries ago that his mother had sung to him when he was scared of the dark and the monsters in his closet. He knew that Ant would know it too. Familiar and older than time, just the two of them and a radio connection.

He pretended not to hear Ant gasping, and choked out the words to the song because god damn it, he owed his friend a way to go out. His voice cracked too many times to count, but he kept at it. 

He stopped long after the sounds of suffocation faded into radio silence.

 

***

 

_ “Mission Control, do you copy? Holy shit, do you copy? Fuck-” _

**_“Astronaut Malik, this is Mission Control. We copy. What is the situation? We’re reading unusual pressure levels on the upper observation deck.”_ **

_ “We sent Ant out - the airlock opened and he and Ben got-” _

**_“Astronaut Malik, what is the status of Astronauts Winston and Riach?”_ **

_ “Ben wasn’t wearing a suit. Ant was. He - he lasted longer.” _

**_“And your status? Are you stable? Is the station secure?”_ **

_ “I’m fine. The door to the deck was closed and pressurized when it happened. The rest of the station is fine. It’s just that they’re dead, what do I do-” _

**_“Astronaut Malik, we need you to remain calm. Continue running diagnostics on the station. We’ll begin to assemble a mission to retrieve you. We will contact you with more information as soon as possible. Do you copy?”_ **

_ “...I copy.” _

**_“Hang in there, Malik. Over and out.”_ **

 

*******

 

Zayn didn’t leave the control room for hours. 

His eyes were fixed on the screens to the point of nearly drying out until he remembered that he had to blink. He was suddenly too aware of his every movement and action. Every breath that he let out felt like it was echoing like thunder back home in Bradford’s storms. Each time he knocked his arm against a metal piece, the sound of the impact gave a clamoring, furious sound that Zayn was sure was the world punishing him. The survivor, the pilot, the one with the easy job. 

He swallowed the scream rising in his throat and registered the blinking light of an incoming transmission. He raised a leaden hand to accept it.

“‘Lo?”

“Astronaut Malik.” There was Simon Cowell’s voice, the old bastard. Zayn hated him suddenly for sending him up here to this prison over a half-dead world.

"The  _ Integrity _ wasn't damaged too badly, but the sensors are picking up hairline fractures on the left wing and I don't want to risk that in reentry. Besides, I'd need two other people to run the shuttle." Out of reflex, Zayn's heart beat a familiar devastated tattoo into his chest at the reminder of what he'd lost. 

Mission Control didn't seem to care. "Alright, then, Malik, we're working on a solution and assembling a crew to come retrieve you. How many provisions do you have?" The clipped London accent spared no sympathy for him. He was a mere worker in the grand scheme of the WSA's priorities; the MSS and its safety were the top priority in this mission and always would be.

"More than enough," Zayn assured them. “I’ll make it.” He paused. “How long will it be?”

Cowell didn’t respond for just a heartbeat too long. Zayn’s heart finished its journey to numbness. “Astronaut Malik, I’m afraid it will take at least two months to even get the crew on course to you. There are preparations to be made, and we need to get a crew together. You must understand that we weren’t expecting something of this magnitude to-”

“It’s fine,” Zayn spat out. “Just update me when you can. I’ll keep your station running.”

“Malik-”

Zayn ended the transmission with a slam on the control board. The ship’s systems squealed at him in mechanical protest, letting him know that he’d pressed more than a few wrong buttons. He glared at it, angrily wiping at his eyes to try to scrub away the tears there. A few of them flew from his hand, glittering and mocking. He bowed his head.

He sat there for another six hours, surrounded by a little solar system of tears.

 

***

 

_ Mars Space Station Log _

_ 4 September 2134, 23:25 _

 

_ “They’re dead, they’re fucking dead, they’re all  _ dead _ and I couldn’t do a goddamn thing-” _

 

_ Mars Space Station Log _

_ 7 September 2134, 05:45 _

 

_ “It’s Zayn. I made a little memorial in the lower observation deck for them. I’ve only got the one picture, or I’d have put Ant’s in the greenhouse. God, but he loved his fucking plants. Fuck-” _

 

_ Mars Space Station Log _

_ 7 September 2134, 17:43 _

 

_ “Zayn here again. To be honest, this recording is the only thing that’s keeping me sane up here. Mission Control isn’t huge on small talk. I don’t have any set missions anymore, as our main telescope was damaged in the expl- In the accident, I mean. The incident. Fuck. I just take care of the plants. That’s all I have to do, you know. I just make sure that they don’t die, or this whole thing - Ant and Ben and everything - will have been for nothing. I want to at least do this for them.” _

 

_ Mars Space Station Log _

_ 9 September 2134, 13:38 _

 

_ “Figured you should know my routine. I guess these recordings are going to be used to write the best-selling movie about this fucking tragedy. Good fucking luck. It’s boring as shit up here. But here goes. I wake up and exercise so that my muscles don’t atrophy in the microgravity. Then I check the irrigation system. Sometimes I go down to the lower observation deck and just float around. The stars are pretty enough, I guess. And Mars is pretty. Sometimes I draw the rock formations on the surface. There’s plenty of food to last until another shuttle makes its way over here to come get me. Food for three…it lasts a while when you’re only feeding one.” _

 

_ Mars Space Station Log _

_ 19 September 2134, 09:56 _

 

_ “Did they forget about me?” _

 

_ **** _

Earth

4 September 2134, 06:54

 

The line at the coffee shop was taking way too long. 

Liam tapped his foot on the slightly-too-sticky tile floor, fiddling with the buttons on his phone. It was already almost seven and he had to make the drive to the aeronautics factory and be there by half seven. He’d been late twice already this month and to be honest, Liam wasn’t really in the mood to test his boss’s patience. He checked his phone again. Six fifty four.

_ Damn _ .

“Mr. Payne.”

Liam turned to see a lean young man about his age with a satchel slung over his shoulder standing behind him in line. The guy watched him with expectant blue eyes as if Liam were to know what to do. Liam searched his mental catalogues to desperately find out if he were supposed to know this guy that was still  _ staring at him, damn it. _ “I’m sorry,” he finally admitted, “but do I know you?”

The guy grinned immediately, and his face turned from tense to charismatic in a heartbeat. “I’m Louis Tomlinson,” he told him, holding out his hand to shake.

“Liam Payne,” Liam replied, shaking the hand and still absolutely confused.

Louis’s smile grew more and he said, “I knew that already. And you’re clearly not watching the WSA news feeds often enough.”

It was then that Liam recognized Louis. The guy was some sort of wunderkind, a pioneer in astrophysics since he was 17 and interned with the WSA. Now, he was a consulting agent on missions and a trained astronaut. His reason for finding Liam in the middle of his favorite cafe in Wolverhampton, however, was beyond Liam’s grasp. 

Besides, Liam hadn’t even had his coffee yet.

“Sorry,” Liam apologized, feeling his face flush. “It’s been a while since I checked the staff memos.”

“And that’s why I’m here.” Louis paused, pointing behind Liam. “You’re up.”

Liam stared at him for a moment, confused, before he recalled that he had come to the cafe to get a coffee and that he was still standing in line. He whirled and apologized to the bored-looking girl at the counter, paying for his coffee and corn muffin hastily. He stepped aside so that Louis could order as he shoved his change into his wallet. He felt clumsier than usual, as if just seeing another astronaut could throw him back into microgravity. Everything felt all at once too heavy, and he found himself dropping a coin and expecting it to float before him.

“You okay, mate?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Liam scrambled for the coin and laughed a bit, catching the note of wariness in Louis’s tone. “Just. Remembering, yeah? You people come out of the blue and it’s a bit shocking. Wasn’t expecting this today.”

Louis hummed in response, handing Liam his coffee and muffin. “Follow me,” he invited, heading towards a small booth in the corner of the cafe. Liam trailed behind him, still bemused. Louis sprawled on one side of the booth, all easy grace and angles. He tossed a lock of auburn hair behind an ear, watching Liam intently as he sat on the other side of the table. He unnerved Liam when he did that, like he was analyzing everything and coming back with disappointing results on Liam’s mind. 

For a few minutes, they sat silently at the booth. The normal sounds of the cafe filtered through Liam’s ears like they were coming from behind a door, and the coffee, his favorite flavor, tasted as metallic as fear. Still, Louis watched him, eyes flickering from Liam’s hands to his hair to his eyes. Analyzing. Judging.

“What is it that you want, then?” Liam demanded, setting his coffee down with more force than originally intended. The hot liquid splashed out a bit and landed on his hand. Liam winced and cleaned it with a napkin that Louis handed to him, ignoring the small amused smile that tugged at the astrophysicist’s lips as he did. 

Louis took a delicate sip of his coffee. “I’m here on behalf of the WSA, obviously. Confidential business, you must understand. Very hush hush. Not to be shared with the public until we can rectify the situation.”

“The situation?”

“What I’m about to tell you is confidential,” Louis warned. “Coffee shops aren’t ideal for this but we doubted that you’d be willing to come to London just for a debrief. The situation is this: the space shuttle  _ Integrity _ is currently docked at the Mars Space Station. Its crew of three was there to observe comet activity in a nearby star system as well as test out a new microgravity irrigation system.” Louis reached into his bag and produced a nondescript manila folder. He opened it on the table, sliding Liam a picture of three astronauts in flight suits. “Ben Winston, principal photographer and astronomer; Anthony Riach, photographer and botanist; and Zayn Malik, mission leader, pilot, and cell biologist."

Liam glanced at the photo. The three men looked cheerful enough. Malik and Riach stood close together, arms slung around each other with bright grins. “They look like a close crew. Were these two training partners?”

Louis pursed his lips together, sifting through the crew files in the folder. “Even more. Riach and Malik were childhood friends. They did everything together.”

“Were?” Liam asked, dread mounting in his chest. He knew the game that Louis was planning, and he knew from years in the service that cleverly placed verb tenses meant only one thing. “What the fuck is going on at the MSS?”

Louis’s hand shot out to slap over Liam’s mouth. The astrophysicist hissed, “Keep your fucking voice down. The public can’t know. Not yet.” He narrowed his eyes at Liam. “If I take my hand away, will you stay quiet?” When Liam nodded, heart hammering, Louis removed his hand. He drummed his fingers on the table, eyes sharp as chips of ice. “There was an incident during a spacewalk last night. Riach was performing one in order to manually calibrate one of our telescopes after a piece of debris damaged the automatic system. Winston was waiting in the upper observation deck, running the automated equipment to help him out. The work went off without a hitch.”

“And then?”

Louis nodded grimly. “And then. Riach re entered the station easily enough. Repressurization ran fine. What nobody knew was that the exterior door hadn’t locked all the way, and that the return of air pressure within the airlock was straining the system. Riach opened the interior door from the airlock once he thought it was safe, and that was the final straw. The exterior door broke open, and anything within the observation deck was slingshotted out into space. Luckily, the pressure door to the deck was shut so the rest of the station is secure.”

Liam stared down at the files that Louis had given him, trying to envision the chaos of being sucked into the void. Those sorts of accidents were supposed to have been eradicated years ago. Everything was supposed to be  _ perfect _ in the WSA. At least, that was what he’d once thought.

“And Malik?”

“Malik is alive. He’s still up there. Alone.”

“Jesus,” Liam swore, running a hand through his hair. “That poor bastard.”

Bright blue eyes focused on him, boring into him in the most disconcerting way. “Do you want to help us help him? Because we could use someone like you, out of practice as you are. Come back to the WSA and we could get you back in the pilot’s seat where you belong.”

Liam’s lips flattened into a thin line. He asked, “Are you sure that’s where I belong? Back out there? Piloting one of your best ships to Mars?” He ripped a sugar packet and tipped a bit of it into his coffee. He didn’t even like sugar. Liam grimaced and threw the rest of the packet onto the table, petulantly running his finger through the little white crystals instead of meeting Louis’ eyes.

There was a long-suffering sigh and then Tomlinson offered, "Look, Liam - can I call you Liam? There is an astronaut stranded in a damaged space station right now. You're the best pilot we have."

Liam leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms. He let out a laugh, mirthless and exasperated. "Tomlinson, if I'm the best pilot you've got, then the WSA might as well shut down."

Louis frowned. "You're the face of the golden age of the WSA. Seeing you as the head of this mission would inspire the public...and our funding." His sharp eyes turned pleading. "Please?"

God, but Liam could never turn down a face like that. Or a man alone in space, for that matter. He picked up the file, thumbing through the papers until he found Malik's sheet. He ran his finger across the edge of the little photo paper clipped to the corner, worrying the corners and taking in the astronaut's angular features. His eyes were bright, like he was seconds from looking at the sun. 

Liam could only imagine how his eyes looked now that he'd lost his crewmates to the void outside.

"Let me guess. We leave now?" 

Louis offered a wicked grin again - Liam suspected a pattern - and said, "Maybe you're not too out of practice, Payno. You'll fit in just fine." He slid out of the booth, slinging his satchel over his shoulder. "Come on, then. Pick up your stuff and let's go. You can eat on the way," he urged, prodding Liam out of his seat. Liam trailed behind the astrophysicist, smiling despite himself.

Maybe this would end in something good.

***

The WSA was nice enough to pay for Liam to fly first class back to the British Space Center just outside of London. It was a short enough ride, but Liam appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Louis accompanied him, and Liam quickly learned that the astrophysicist was one of those types with boundless energy. The guy practically vibrated when he was sitting still, and Liam tried to ignore the incessant tapping of his left foot when they sat next to each other on the craft. He distracted himself for a solid ten minutes by attempting to count the stray hairs in Tomlinson’s wild mane of hair, only giving up when it got too hard to see the fine strands.

“What’s it like, having been in the WSA for this long? Since before I got in back in the day. I got in when I was young, but you take the cake,” Liam ventured finally.

“Intimidating at first. Nobody was my age,” Louis replied, “and then I realized that I didn’t need their approval; they needed me regardless of my feelings. They just wanted me for my brain and my theories.”

“Not much of a scholar myself,” Liam admitted. “It’s a pilot’s life for me.”

Louis nodded. “Rocket science isn’t for everyone, to be sure. One of the crewmates is a rocket tech, so we’ve got that covered for you. You’ll fit in just fine.” He tapped lightly on Liam’s bicep. “You’ll be fine.”

Liam offered a tight-lipped smile in response. “I can’t promise you anything,” he warned. “I’m not the pilot I used to be.”

“The pilot you used to be had a few bumps in the road,” Louis reminded him, much to Liam’s displeasure, “so maybe a change of pace is just what you need.”

Liam gave up trying to be friendly and let his face fall into a frown. He said, “I didn’t think that we were going to bring that up.”

“It was part of your career, Payne. You were here and then you weren’t. Regardless of what happened back in the old days, you’re still a valuable member of the agency. We need people like you. Real people. Not those drone kids that they pump out at the academy. You’ve got heart, Payne, and that’s what we need to bring back a stranded astronaut with what’s probably the worse case of PTSD since yours.” Louis’ eyes were wide and honest. He leaned forward and stared unblinkingly at Liam. “Look, I’m sorry if mentioning it makes you uncomfortable. But coming back to the WSA puts that situation in as fair play.”

“I understand,” Liam muttered, breaking his gaze with Louis and turning his head to gaze mindlessly out the window.

“You can still drop out, y’know,” Louis offered, “and just go back. We won’t judge you. There are other pilots.”

“No,” Liam found himself saying almost automatically. “I’ll do it. I want to help.”

Louis smiled encouragingly. “That’s the spirit!” he exclaimed, tapping Liam’s hand excitedly. Liam echoed the expression with a softer grin, and the two of them sat in a companionable silence until the pilot announced that they’d be touching down at the British WSA headquarters soon. 

Liam peered out the window at the landscape below. The glittering gray hulk of London glared up at him in the distance, surrounded on all sides by a network of highways. He traced the path of one of them, following it closer and closer until the dark ribbon melted into the wide sprawl of tarmac that he knew to be the World Space Agency’s English headquarters. Three tall facilities stood in the center of the complex, surrounded by warehouses on all sides. Further off, maybe about two miles off, Liam could catch the shape of the three tall launch pads where shuttles were deployed. One held the great silver hulk of a ship.

“That’s the  _ Charity _ ,” Louis told him. “She’s your girl for this mission.”

“She’s nice looking,” Liam breathed, but inside his heart was hammering. She was one of the bigger ships in the service, and her hull curved and gleamed like his old ship had. It placed a heavy weight in his chest, tugging his stomach and heart in the worst ways. “She new?”

Louis nodded proudly, eyes gleaming azure in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. “She’s one of our best,” he informed Liam. “I was involved with her design; she can travel almost fifty percent faster than most of the others. It’s all in the shape of the nose and how it cuts through space.”

Eyes still on the  _ Charity _ , Liam muttered a mild congratulations and watched as the ship glittered out of sight as they descended. The plane hovered above the tarmac and touched down lightly, hissing as it sank down towards the ground. The two of them were met on the tarmac by the dark-haired man that Liam recognized as Simon Cowell, the iron-fisted chairman of the British branch of the World Space Agency. The man was flanked by two assistants, one of whom handed him a packet of paper when prompted. Louis snapped a quick salute, which Liam echoed after a moment of confusion. Cowell waved them off. “Payne,” he said crisply. “It’s been a while.”

“Long enough,” Liam replied. 

Cowell hummed noncommittally. “Ready to get back to work?” He handed the packet to Liam. “This is your contract. If you sign it, you’re committing yourself to this rescue mission. We’ll be sending you off exactly two months from now. You’d be undergoing refresher courses in shuttle management, piloting, and physics, as well as participating in a rigorous physical training course. We have a man alone on the MSS and we want him to get back before he succumbs to the psychological consequences of the earlier tragedy.”

“Is that all?” Liam muttered.

Cowell snapped, “You’re funny. Are you signing the damn contract or not?”

Liam looked at the stack of papers in his hands. The thing probably was full of statements on liability and confidentiality and the like. It was the same old contract that he’d had to sign whenever he’d done a mission back in his earlier WSA days. Probably there were more clauses added. Probably some pertained to him and the things he’d done. 

_ In the event of mission failure- _

He shook his head to clear the clinical, mocking voice.

_ In the event of crewmember loss- _

Malik was up there alone.

_ In the event that the mission vehicle is destroyed- _

He had to save  _ someone _ . 

Liam grabbed the pen from a waiting assistant and scrawled his signature on the contract. He shoved it back at Cowell. 

“I hope you know what you’re getting into,” Cowell warned him, watching him with cold, calculating eyes. “We’re putting you in command of a mission to rescue a compromised man on a crippled station. You know that we won’t allow error this time.”

A cold ball of anger bubbled in Liam’s stomach at the words. “I’ll get him back in time,” he told Cowell shortly, shouldering past him and heading towards the rest of the base. His mind was strangely calm, all solid will and liquid courage.

Louis caught up to him, and Liam could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe you just brushed off the chairman like that,” he muttered at Liam’s side, taking quick strides to match Liam’s longer ones. “Wish I’d done that.”

In a fit of surprise, Liam barked out a laugh. Louis grinned by his side. “I’ve been waiting to snap at the old bastard,” Liam admitted. “Maybe one day I’ll curse him out properly.”

“You’d better give me the heads up so I can be there to get pictures of the look on his face when you do it.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Tomlinson.”

“You’re a cruel man, Payne. Cruel indeed. We’re headed to the engineering warehouse, so you know and all.” Louis pointed to a newer-looking building that arched upwards in a glittering mass of steel and glass. Through its open doors, Liam could glimpse half-built fuselages and deconstructed wings. As they drew closer, the great hulking masses of shuttles became clearer from the shadows at the back of the warehouse. A thrill of foreboding ran through Liam, manifesting itself in a shiver. “Back where you belong,” Louis told him. He led Liam into the warehouse.

Inside, two young men were bent over a digital table that depicted a moving simulation of the inner solar system, arguing softly about trajectories. One, a tall lanky kid with curls that fell to his shoulders, was pointing eagerly at an illuminated dotted line that glowed a soft yellow. The other one shook his head and pointed to a blue one instead. Both of the lines arced from the Earth to a small gray dot that orbited Mars. 

“Let me  _ speak _ ,” the curly one said patiently. “Look, we can’t just head straight like that towards the end. We need to alter the course by thirteen degrees or we’ll be headed straight for Phobos. Do you want that, Niall?”

“‘Course not,” the other one muttered, “but we won’t hit it because it  _ won’t be there _ . We’re leaving in two months, not one and three quarters. Or can you not count dates either?”

The curly one’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to speak, but then he caught sight of Louis and Liam. “What’s this?” he asked. The blond one turned to see what he was looking at.

Louis gestured at Liam. He said, “Boys, this is Liam. Liam, these are the boys. They’re your crew for this run. Not the best the WSA could offer-”

“Hey!”

“But they’ll suffice, I suppose.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Louis consulted a handheld from his pocket, frowning down at it when it beeped at him in disapproval. “They don’t know where to put your bags, Liam. I’ll go sort them out. You lot can get to know each other or something.” Turning to the other two young men, he said, “Play nice with the lad, boys. He’s out of practice and an old veteran like him needs some time to adjust.” He winked at Liam and started back towards the doors to the warehouse before Liam could protest. 

Liam watched him go, regretting his absence already. He hated this part, with all the introductions and the questions. Steeling himself, he turned back around. The two other young men watched him carefully. The blond one crossed his arms, eyes traveling up and down Liam’s body to take him in. It was more analytical than anything else. Liam hated it.

He shrugged half-heartedly. “Like he said. ‘M Liam. Pilot from Wolverhampton. Used to be in the force and I’m back again.”

The curly one stuck out a hand. “Harry Styles. I’m a cell biologist. And a pilot.”

“Best in his class,” the blond one added. “Beat me in finals at the academy, but he’s not allowed to brag about it or I kick his ass.” He laughed, his cackle carrying through the echoing warehouse. “My name’s Niall, by the way. Niall Horan. I’m a rocket engineer and computer technician, so I’ll be running the trajectories and maintenance on the mission.”

Liam furrowed his brow at the accent from the guy. “So why aren’t you at the Irish Space Center?”

Niall shrugged. “They didn’t want me there. The British branch was in desperate need of a good tech, and Ireland’s got its shit together. Least I could do was lend the English some Irish talent.”

Liam laughed, then said, “It’s nice to meet you guys. Hope we’ll get along nicely enough.” They’d have to, if they’d be piloting a trip to Mars together. “We’ll have to compare simulator scores sometime,” he offered to Harry, enjoying a chance to work with someone who knew how to actually maneuver a shuttle. Nothing like the dunces at the aeronautics factory back at Wolverhampton. Maybe he would enjoy being back at the space center. He’d missed the air of competition that had permeated the air in the academy and the British Space Center.

Harry’s eyes lit up. “I bet you can’t dock to a station in under thirty seconds!”

“Harry can do it in twenty seven!” Niall added, reaching a hand up to mess with Harry’s thick curls. Scowling, Harry shook him away, running his fingers through his hair to fix it. Niall watched him fondly enough, looking mildly amused and all-too-used to the situation. He turned back to Liam with a smirk. “And he’s younger than you.”

“I was younger than Harry is now when I set my record,” Liam pointed out, “and it was twenty nine seconds. I was twenty three when I did it.”

“But Harry’s is still faster  _ now _ ,” Niall insisted.

“Lads, lads!” Louis called, entering the warehouse with a clipboard in hand. He sauntered up to them with his trademark grin, tapping Niall on the shoulder with his pen. “Enough about the record; you’ll give the poor guy a stress ulcer before he even starts his first day. And we’ll be seeing for sure who’s the best once he lands us on the MSS.”

The phrasing of the statement set off alarms in Liam’s head.  _ We _ .

_ No. _

"Wait. You're on this mission too?" Liam could already feel the stress ulcer in his stomach forming.

"Well, I'm certainly not here for my health, Liam." Louis's smile turned feral. "Oh, don't make that face! It's not like your puppy died. We'll have fun! Besides, even numbers are always safest."

Liam groaned, eliciting a delighted grin from Harry and another cackle from Niall. “Please tell me I won’t regret this.”

Louis shrugged. “Even if you do, you’re under contract now. You’re coming to space whether you like it or not.” He turned his pen-tapping to Liam’s shoulder. “We’ll have fun, Payno, not to worry.” 

***

Liam allowed himself to be led through the WSA compound to the low-slung residential quarters. Walking through the softly hissing doors, Liam couldn’t help but admire the updates done to the place. There were actual communal spaces for cooking, studying, and sitting. He half-wished that he’d come back earlier if he’d known that he’d be getting the amenities that the WSA was now providing.

“This is where you’ll be living,” Cowell told him. “We’ve got other astronauts sharing the space. Tomlinson, Styles, and Horan will be here in your room, of course, but we’ve also got Ed Sheeran here and Normani Kordei’s crew in the adjacent rooms. You’ll not be wanting for company for sure.”

“I’m sure that’s my biggest concern,” Liam drawled.

Cowell faced him with a scathing look, looking all too done with Liam. "You're going to need to undergo extensive training to be able to handle the conditions of space travel again. I know you've done it before, but you're out of practice." Cowell pointed to the other end of the barracks. "If you take that door, you'll get to the recreation and education areas. There, you'll work with a trainer to get into a physical condition appropriate for interplanetary travel."

Liam asked, "Am I the reason why we're not leaving for two months?"

Cowell's lips pursed into a thin line. "You're one of them, yes," he admitted, "but we would rather send an experienced pilot than one that's only done colony landings. Station runs aren't all that common, seeing as they're only for science, and only a few crews have gone to the MSS. Of them, all of the pilots are on missions currently. Ashton Irwin's crew is on Mercury, and we've sent Perrie Edwards' crew to Venus for a six-month atmospheric research mission. You're the only seasoned pilot that could do it."

"I don't like that we're waiting," Liam insisted. "I work out regularly. Shouldn't that be enough for a quick retrieval mission?"

"No."

"Is that your final answer?"

"It is. We've set the itinerary and we can't change it now. Your eagerness, however well-meant, could jeopardize the mission and the condition of the MSS."

"And Astronaut Malik," Liam reminded him.

Cowell gave him an exasperated look. "And him, yes." He turned and began walking towards the end of the barracks, pausing at the door that led to the recreational corridor. He seemed to realize that Liam wasn't following, because he turned with a long-suffering sigh that only the head of the British WSA could have learned. "Payne, you're not making this very easy. Come along."

Liam tugged at his belt in frustration, but he followed Cowell regardless. "I don't know how to pilot the newer models," he called as he caught up with Cowell's brisk footsteps.

"We have simulators and a theory crash course. Not to worry."

“You’ve got it all planned out, don’t you?”

“Of course. Come on, Payne.”

Liam rolled his eyes skyward, but he continued down the hallway. He was starting to regret this already.

 

***

 

Liam enjoyed the empty peace that came with exercise. He’d long since assured his trainer that he was more than capable of handling his own fitness routine, and using the mock-up of the MSS’s bike system was like coming home to a very dear friend. He’d been working on it for nearly an hour, finding comfort in watching his vitals pump steadily along on the screen before him. As he pedaled, Liam let his mind trick itself into telling him he was back on a space station. He’d never been to Mars, but the ISS was like a familiar lover to him, ancient and always a work in progress. In her wide rooms, Liam had always been able to feel the presence of astronauts from decades before.

He wondered if the MSS would have a sense of newness, of fresh-minted wonder and discovery that had not quite gotten worn out by constant use. 

He didn’t know if awe had any place living on a station where two men had died.

Harry came into the exercise room, leaning against the doorjamb with inquisitive eyes. “That the new model?” he asked. He popped an orange slice into his mouth. “Heard it came in today.”

Liam, still pedaling, nodded with a grin. “It’s real nice,” he told Harry. “You should try it. Are you scheduled next?”

“It’s why I’m here.” Harry pointed to the clock above them. “Your time’s up. I’d let you stay longer, but Niall has a training session with Mark right after me and you know how the two of them are about staying on track with exercise.”

“Don’t I know it,” Liam sighed. He tapped on the bike’s screen, ending his session and eliciting a disappointed beep from the little machine. Liam patted the handlebars in apology, ignoring Harry’s little snort of disbelief at the action. “I’ve used those bikes too damn much,” he explained to Harry. “All the missions equal all of the muscle degeneration and all of the bone weathering.”

Harry grimaced. “You get breaks often?” He rolled his wrist. “I break the little bones way more than I’d ever prefer to.”

The fingers in Liam’s left hand twitched as if in reply, and Liam was almost amused by how timely the pain came along. “I’ve set the little finger bones out of the doctor’s office more often than not,” he admitted. “Med bills cost too damn much.”

Harry nodded, lips pursed into a flat line. “Price we pay for the perks of the job, I guess.” He picked at a slice of orange before eating it, chewing thoughtfully. “Want a piece?”

“Nah,” Liam said, waving Harry off. He slung a towel over his shoulders and nudged Harry in the direction of the bike. “Get your vitamin c and get to work. We’ve got an astronaut to catch.”

 

***

“Liam!” Louis cried, shaking Liam awake at the ungodly hour of four in the morning. Liam tried his level best not to scowl, but  _ really _ , four was a bit obnoxious.

“Launch isn't until noon,” he complained. “C’mon.” He sat up anyway, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. He might as well wake up now. Niall stirred in the bunk above him, muttering angrily about the time.

“Is today really the day, then?” Louis was brighter than Liam had ever seen him; his eyes sparked with the excitement of it all. Liam fancied him to be a twin to Peter Pan just then, just like the tabloids always giggled in third-page stories. “It’s been too long since I’ve been up there. Even longer since it was a proper rocket and not a ferry.”

Liam clapped him on the back, letting his eyes crinkle into a smile - a  _ real _ smile, not one of his too-fake ones that hurt his cheeks - at Louis’ barely contained euphoria. He said, “I bet you’re excited for all of your fancy equipment waiting for you up there.”

“May be an adult, but I enjoy my little toys,” Louis told him with wild wonder. “I’ve got m’boy back home. He wants his dad to be a hero, and I’d like to make him proud.”

“Then let's do it,” Liam said, and Louis laughed as the two of them barreled towards the dining hall for their last meal on Earth.

 

***

 

Liam sat still as the technicians strapped him into his seat in the shuttle cockpit. Usually, he'd just do it himself, but this launch was televised and with the publicity came all of the pomp and circumstance. He fiddled with the belt buckle once it was fastened, fingertips itching to unlatch the straps. Louis tapped him gently on the shoulder to stop him, and Liam gave him a small smile of thanks.

Niall nudged him on the shoulder as the technicians left the cockpit. “Ready for launch?”

Liam smiled. “I'm ready for  _ lunch _ ,” he replied, eliciting a delighted laugh from his friend and surely every person watching. The cockpit door sealed with a high whistle. Liam tried not to cringe.

"Come on," Niall urged with a bright grin. His gloved hand stayed outstretched.

Liam chuckled and shook his hand. "Ready for space, mate?"

Niall wiggled in his seat, his laugh half-nervous and half-exhilarated. "Let's get this show on the road, then." He turned to the other two boys. “Styles, Tommo, you two ready as well?”

A kick to the seat was Louis’ reply, accompanied by a savage grin and a whoop. Harry opted for a more calm statement of “I’m always ready,” at which Niall gave a mocking little laugh. “I’ve flown before,” Harry complained, eyes wide and offended.

“Yes, Styles, but you’re not the one piloting this mission,” Louis reminded him, flicking the viewscreen of his helmet. “That would be Payno here. I’m sure he’ll let you press a few buttons. Maybe even pull a lever or two.” He ducked Harry’s hand when it flew around to whack him on the back of the head. “I can’t believe this disrespect!” he crowed. “Here I am, trying to be a simple physicist in space, and here you come trying to wound me before we’ve even left the Earth!”

“Can we calm this down, please?” Cowell’s voice crackled drily through the speakers, silencing the four of them. “We want this ship on course as soon as possible.”

“Fucking killjoy,” Niall muttered, kicking his legs petulantly. Louis hummed in agreement, rapping a beat on the top of Niall’s helmet. The two of them ignored Cowell’s audible sigh of resignation when it came through their radio.

Harry reached up and flipped the switches above his seat. “Activating pressure seals and deadbolts on exterior doors and air locks.” He paused. “I'll double check, actually.”

Liam’s stomach did a curious flip at that. He thought back to his mission briefings, trying to forget that there were dead men orbiting Mars.

“Preparing initial launch sequence,” Louis told them, all smiles but still firm and sure.

“Trajectory set,” Niall and Harry supplemented at once, and before Liam’s eyes a bright hologram of their route flashed on a screen. It was a consolidation of the two routes that the two of them had been fighting over when he’d met them; their course was straight and true. Liam tapped the image in acknowledgement, confirming it to be sent to the ship’s navigation computer. The image flickered out of sight.

Liam hovered his finger over the keypad where he’d have to input the launch codes. He asked, “Permission to take off, Mission Control?”

“Granted, Payne. Good luck, Astronaut.”

Louis huffed out a complaining “And what are we?” to giggled responses from Harry and Niall. Liam shook his head and hid his smile in the direction of the keypad. 

“Are we ready to go, lads?”

The other three members of his crew whooped excited confirmations. Liam punched the sequence specific to their mission into the computer: 72831D.

“Let’s go, boys.”

“Igniting engines,” Harry said, and below them the low rumble of the engines came to life. They hummed below the boys’ seats, sending the pleasantly familiar vibrations shivering up Liam’s spine. 

_ You’re home _ , they seemed to whisper to Liam.  _ You came back. We knew you could never resist this. _

“Got that right,” Liam murmured under his breath, and he patted the control panel of his station affectionately. He reached for the stabilizer, holding tightly to its joystick. “Ready for liftoff,” he announced in an elevated voice to the boys. He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times. This time would be different, he promised himself. This time he would get it right.

“Roger,” Niall replied, and he pressed a button glowing in front of him. The engines began to whir faster, rising into a fierce whining that grew in pitch and volume with every passing second. “Ten seconds until liftoff.”

Louis reached up and flicked a switch. “Nine, and we’re untethered now.”

“Eight!” Harry echoed, and he rolled his shoulders, setting them in place.

“Seven,” Niall called. “Six!”

“Five,” Liam said, joining their chorus. He rose his voice with the rest of them. The stabilizer shook beneath his grip. 

“Four,” the four of them said in unison. “Three. Two.”

“One,” Liam finished for them, and the  _ Charity _ gave a mighty, triumphant roar and broke her embrace with the earth. 

They were pressed back in their seats immediately. Liam fought the urge to let his eyes slip closed; instead, he forced himself to focus on the flight readouts on the screen before him. He kept his hand on the stabilizer, holding it in place as their ship rocketed away from the ground.

They were up and away.

“Entering thermosphere,” Harry managed to call past the pressure. “All systems clear.”

“Holding trajectory,” Liam replied with some difficulty. “Preparing for exosphere and exit of atmosphere.”

“Twenty five seconds until orbit distance,” Louis called above the roar of the engines. “Thirty seconds until liftoff engines are ejected and controlled burn commences for the trip to Mars.”

The cockpit shook as they did, fighting gravity to take them to space. Liam watched the sky grow darker around them as they shot higher and higher into the deep of space, leaving Earth’s comfort behind. He wished he had a view of their planet as they left it; he was sure the images would be something else.

“Exiting exosphere,” Louis said, and then he hovered his finger over the controls. “Are we clear to eject?”

Liam paused. “Niall, is our trajectory correct?”

Niall nodded. “All course systems accurate and on target.”

“Then let them loose, Louis. Both at the same time or we’ll lose the angle.”

Louis pressed his finger to the button and it beeped in response. The  _ Charity  _ shook all at once, and then shot forward with increased speed as she flew away from the thrust of her disappearing exit engines. “We’re clear!” Louis crowed as the roar of the engines was replaced with the soft vibrations of the controlled burn reactors. They had begun their two week dialogue with the space flying by them.

“ _ Excellent liftoff, lads,”  _ Cowell told them through the comm system. “ _ Enjoy your flight. Keep to mission schedules and send updates. We’ll be in contact.”  _

“Yes, sir,” the four of them chorused, and the line went silent.

They all looked around at each other for a moment, taking in each other's expressions. Then Louis gave a savage whoop and the three of them joined in with laughing yells of their own. 

“Space, lads!” Niall said excitedly. “It's been too long.”

“Too long,” Liam echoed. He unstrapped his belt. The weightlessness that welcomed him was a familiar sensation, and Liam surrendered himself to its embrace gladly. His crew did the same, freeing themselves from their chairs and heading towards their work stations in the cockpit. “Let's get to it, boys.”

Niall muttered something about work and play, and Harry almost replied in agreement, but he cut himself off with a small laugh and a glance towards Liam. Liam gave him a mock scowl and Harry stuck his tongue out. Louis threw a pencil at Liam. Liam looked around at them and smiled. He had missed space, he decided. This was going to be great.

“I’m going to try and make contact with the MSS,” Liam told the boys. Niall and Harry hummed their acknowledgement, not turning away from the trajectory calculator that they were bent over. Louis glanced up at him briefly, his fingers pausing over the pad where he was looking at data gathered during their ascent. Part of his mission was to gather information on solar radiation pressure for the development of a solar sail that the WSA and he were working on together. 

“Tell me what happens, yeah?” he asked before turning back to his work. 

Liam gave him the thumbs-up and swung out of the central room on the shuttle. He headed down towards the bottom of the craft, down past the kitchen, barracks, and study room to the communications room. The room was able to be closed off from the rest of the shuttle by a door, allowing an astronaut the ability to watch video messages and have private conversations undisturbed and unheard. He’d figured that he should make primary contact with the MSS privately, just in case Malik was unstable. He hoped that that wouldn’t be the case.

He floated his way over to the chair that was bolted down in front of the audio communication console, belting himself down. The console came to life at his approach, displaying a list of possible contacts. Liam disregarded the Earth, Moon, Venus, and Mercury stations and focused on the Mars Space Station, tapping its name and opening a communication channel with the station. He leaned in close to the microphone tentatively.

"MSS, do you copy? This is Astronaut Liam Payne on the space shuttle _ Charity _ . Do you copy?" Liam waited a moment, tapping impatiently on the console. Maybe the guy was sleeping. He had to get to a communication station or something. The guy was fine. The guy was fine.

“MSS, do you copy?” he tried again.

The guy was fine.

“C’mon, Malik, gimme a sign,” Liam muttered, pulling at his hair.

The guy was fine.

"'Lo?"

"MSS, do you copy?" Liam prompted again, relief coursing through him when he heard the hoarse voice on the other end. "Astronaut Malik, do you copy?" He tried to nudge Malik into protocol.

"Um, yeah. Yes, I mean. I copy." There was a pause, and then the voice came back suspiciously to ask, "Shuttle?" Malik's accent was thicker than what Liam had expected, somewhere close to Louis'.

" _ Charity _ is coming to the MSS to perform emergency repairs and and retrieve you from the station. It's about time you came home, Astronaut Malik."

The guy's relief washed through the speakers in the form of a sigh. “Thank god, man. It’s getting claustrophobic up here. And we’re wasting energy keeping me up here if I’m not working on observation.” Liam found himself nodding in agreement, and Malik added with a touch of worry, “How long will it take? For you to get here, I mean?”

Liam glanced at the mission itinerary glowing on the display beside him. They’d only been out of the reach of Earth’s orbit for six hours. “We just left. We’re heading out with the engines running overtime. It’s looking like we’ll be there in two weeks. Less if we can convince our tech to run the engines a bit harder.”

“Thank god. Can you imagine if we were back in the early days? Six months.” Malik huffed out a little laugh, dry and thankful at the same time. “Born at the right time.”

Chuckling, Liam agreed, then asked,  “Is there anything that we need to know about the station other than the damage from the incident? Will the  _ Charity _ be able to dock at the secondary port on the station?”

Malik was silent for several heartbeats, and Liam could hear the faint sounds of him clicking quickly through the station’s computer. He finally said, “It’s looking good as far as I can see. Unless the sensors aren’t picking up damage from debris, the system is giving me the all clear.  _ Charity  _ should land just fine.”

“Good,” Liam murmured, half in acknowledgement and half to himself. 

“Astronaut Liam Payne, huh?” Malik asked suddenly. Liam could hear the smirk in his voice. “Pilot extraordinaire? They must think I’m pretty damn important if they dragged you out of retirement. How long’s it been, then?”

Liam chuckled a bit. “Two years,” he replied. “Feels weird being back up in microgravity.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“I hope so. I’ve got at least a month out here.”

“What is it that they say about people on boats? Earning your sea legs, yeah?”

“Very funny.”

"I'm a beacon of humor," Malik replied drily. "They say I'm the funniest guy on Mars."

"You're not actually  _ on _ Mars," Liam countered. 

"Touché." Malik’s end of the line lit up in a laugh that rumbled into the  _ Charity _ ’s radio room. Liam smiled at the sound. It was good that this guy was happy. He was doing something right if he was making this guy laugh. “Payne, I’d love to chat and all, but I’ve got a date with some lima beans that I just can’t miss.”

Liam nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “It’s fine if I call daily to check in, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Malik’s voice had a note of relief to it. “Yeah, you’re welcome to it. Can’t promise that I’ll pick up right away, but yeah.”

“Great, then. I’ll just. Go, then.” Liam fumbled through the motions, and he could practically  _ hear _ Louis taking the piss for his social ineptitude. 

“Yeah,” Malik answered haltingly. “Yeah, see you then.” And he closed off the link quickly.

Liam stared at the console in slight disbelief. That was it. That was Astronaut Malik. 

He hated that he loved the sound of his voice already.

***

The morning of the second day was spent exercising in front of press release upon press release. Liam tried to ignore how comical it was that his sweat beaded off of his forehead and hovered around his head. He focused on the burn in his legs and the videos in front of him. The ship had access to Earth’s satellite-driven television, and the newscasts were all reporting on their mission.

_ “Studies show that the Mars Space Station should be able to support Astronaut Malik for at least six months. Thankfully, the crew on the  _ Charity  _ should reach him in about a twelfth of that time.” _

Liam squinted at the picture that they put up beside the newscaster. He reached out and tapped the image, enlarging it. It was Malik’s official photo. The guy was all angles and smoke. His eyes were a bright amber that matched the orange of his flight suit; Liam thought that they resembled the afterburn of a rocket launch. Malik looked dark and fiercely eager, and it showed in the way his smile revealed the push of his tongue against his teeth. Liam thought him fit. He changed the station, pedaling hard. 

“ _ The crew of this shuttle is thrown together-” _

He switched the channel.

_ “All I’m saying is that these young men are not bound by any previous missions. They’re all faces. An Irish transfer, a hotshot young pilot, the genius astrophysicist, and Liam Payne of all people! On that note, why would they bring the most disastrous pilot in WSA history?” _

Switch-

_ “They should’ve brought a well-trained Egyptian recruit; they know their way around a space station for sure. Better than Payne, for sure. Even a Canadian would suffice-” _

Switch, switch, and he pedaled faster-

“ _ He’s unreliable. He could break. He hasn’t served since the  _ Benevolence  _ disaster-” _

Liam stopped short. He glared at the newscaster as he told his colleague all about the WSA’s mistake in taking in a pilot who’d retired. His heart pounded in his chest and beat blood furiously through his ears, and he knew the intensity wasn’t just due to to the force of his exercise.

He ducked his head, wiping a drop of sweat from his cheek as it appeared and bubbled along the surface of his face.  _ Steady _ , he told himself, and he shook the shakiness from his hands, clutching the handlebars of the bike with new strength. He changed the channel deliberately, tuning to a debate among four show hosts. A picture of Malik glowed in the upper corner. This one was more candid, more real, more intense. Malik was caught looking over his shoulder with hair flying about his forehead; he looked startled and weary and all too much like a journalist’s wildest dreams: the weak and wild astronaut left in space. 

_ “The real question is: will Astronaut Zayn Malik be able to take the pressure?” _

Liam frowned and switched off the newsreel. He bent over the bike, turning it up to a higher setting. He imagined his bike powering their sprint to Mars. With each pump of his legs, they were getting closer to Malik. They’d make it in time.

 

_ *** _

 

_ Mars Space Station Log _

_ 6 November 2134, 01:16 _

 

_ “It gets lonely up here. I’ve tried everything. I’ve explored every part of this fucking station. I sleep in the  _ Integrity  _ just to shake things up sometimes. They’ve sent a crew up to get me. They’re all celebrities, the lot of them. Even brought back Liam fucking Payne. We might as well make a band for how much we’re rock stars back in the astronaut community. Wouldn’t that be a fucking joy? _

_ Fuck, why am I even trying? I’m talking to myself up here. _

_...I’m done. Take me home.” _

 

***

Liam opened the connection between the  _ Charity  _ and the MSS tentatively. The line crackled into life in a way that immediately left Liam’s skin prickled with gooseflesh. He didn’t know if it was with fear or excitement or something more visceral.

“Astronaut Malik? It’s Astronaut Payne here again. How are you today?”

“Fuck off.”

“Bad day?”

Malik sounded sullen. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Liam sighed. “Call me back if you change your mind and want to talk. I’ll leave you to it, then.” He paused, waiting for an answer, but only received the low beeping of an ended call. Malik really didn’t want to talk, then. Liam stared at the console before unstrapping himself from the seat and pushing out of the room. He headed for the mess quarters, where the other three lads were lounging about.

A slingshotted bubble of juice greeted him, along with a “That was quick” called from Louis, who most definitely had more than enough food in his mouth. Liam’s three crewmates watched him come in, and Harry snorted with laughter when the juice bubble made direct contact with the tip of Liam’s nose.

“He didn’t want to talk,” Liam told them with a shrug. “Bad day, I reckon.”

“Aw,” Louis pouted, studying Liam’s face. “Disappointed, Payno?”

Niall smiled at that with the slyness that only an accomplice of Louis could master. “Got a crush, hot shot?”

“You encourage him,” Harry complained to Louis. “He used to be fun.”

“He’s more fun now,” Louis countered. “He agrees with me!”

Liam flicked a crumpled piece of paper squarely towards the space between Louis’ eyes. “Piss off, Tomlinson,” he suggested, and grinned when Louis offered a pout in return. “But honestly,” he continued, “he’s not eager to talk. Told me off the second I came online. Not sure if I did anything, really.”

Niall frowned down at his piece of bread, all traces of his luminous smile gone. Liam spared him a curious glance but ate his meal, sticking around even as Louis and Harry left to get to work.

The stubborn continuation of Niall’s silence eventually made Liam irritable enough to ask, “What’re you moping about now, then?”

A huff from Niall’s end of the room answered him. “I wanted to talk to him and now you’ve gone and made him angry.”

“Wasn’t me,” Liam retorted. “I can’t control how he feels on a day to day basis.”

Niall glared at him from behind a floating instruction manual. Liam just grinned and plucked it out from in front of Niall, tossing it off to God knew where so that he could maneuver over to his friend. "C'mon, Niall, it's not all bad," he attempted to tease. "I'm sure you'll get plenty of chances to talk to Astronaut Malik.”  _ If he even wants to talk to anyone anymore. _

“Hey, Liam?”

Liam turned to see Harry poking his head into the compartment. “Yeah?”

Harry pointed back the way he came. “I’ve got Astronaut Malik on the line. He says he’s fine, and we chatted, but after a while, he was asking for you. He’s still on the line if you want to talk.”

Liam could hear Niall sigh in pure exasperation behind him. “ _ Really _ ?” was all Niall could groan out. Liam turned and shrugged apologetically. Niall flipped him off with less venom than he’d probably intended. “I’d better get to meet him,” he threatened. 

“We’re going to be on the same space station as him, Niall,” Liam told him. “I’m sure you’ll see him once or twice.”

“But that’s in  _ two weeks _ !”

“I’ll see if he wants to chat sometime, Niall, c’mon.”

Niall fell silent for a moment. “Is he gonna have an accent?  I read he’s from up north and you lot all have the hardest accents t’understand.”

Liam barked out a laugh, slinging himself out of the room. “You’re one to talk!” he called, and Niall’s answering cackle let him know that Niall’s jealousy had run its whirlwind course. He smiled to himself, flicking a piece of plastic casing through a doorway at Harry. The other guy turned and frowned at him as the plastic came flying lazily at his nose, batting it away while his lips pressed into a thin line of affectionate frustration. Liam just kept heading down through the ship. He came to the communications room, where the door was slid half ajar.

A soft, warm light spilled out of the room, dimmer than the rest of the ship. It pulled at Liam’s heart, tugging him closer with magnetic intensity and invitation. Liam slid the door aside slowly, steeling himself for another conversation with Malik. Somehow, he knew he could do it. He lowered himself into the seat, strapping in to get ready for the conversation. As he reached towards the button, he felt the air grow heavier with every passing inch his finger traveled, as if he were moving through the growing cloud of Malik’s grief. He cleared his throat and pressed the button, and suddenly he could speak again.

“Malik?”

“Payne.” Malik’s voice was rough and sad. “Hello again.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, I think.” The response was softer than Liam’d expected. Then Malik bit off a small-

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault you’re grieving.”

Malik snapped, “What do you know about that?”

“Enough to tell you that it’s never good,” Liam replied smoothly, “but that the lows don’t last forever. It ebbs and flows with time, the grief does. You need to find ways to cope.” He paused. “Any hobbies?” he hazarded.

Malik was silent for a bit. “I take care of Ant’s plants. He was doing irrigation for a bit before. You know.”

Liam nodded, even though he knew that Malik couldn’t see him. He said, “That’s great, Malik, it is, but don’t you do anything for fun? You can’t possibly just work on plants all day, right?”

The silence on the other end of the line was positively stormy with Malik’s thoughts. “I draw,” he finally admitted, “and I brought some of my stuff up. I prefer spray paint, but, well. You see the problem.”

“Space and all,” Liam agreed. “But that’s good! Art’s fun.”

“...Yes.” Malik sounded dubious. “I don’t get what you’re getting at.”

“You need a distraction, right?” Oh, but he was grasping at straws. Malik wasn’t some kid going to daycare. It wouldn’t work. Liam shoved away the unpleasantness to shoulder on - wasn’t nice to leave a man hanging, was it? “I was thinking that you could do studies of the planet.”

Quiet thoughtfulness met his suggestion, and Liam sat back, idly picking at the arms of the chair. He tried to envision what Malik looked like right now. He was probably sitting in the station’s communications hub, hunched over the controls, eyebrows furrowed at Liam’s suggestion. As an afterthought, Liam reckoned that Malik would probably look good with his eyebrows furrowed.

Finally, Malik hummed softly into the communication link. “I’ll try it,” he offered. “Wish I had charcoal but that’s like inviting something to catch on fire. I’ve got some cool pencils, though.”

“That’s great!” Liam said, and he couldn’t help the bright smile on his face. “You should try to do something at least once a day. Like a more fun sort of routine.”

“Take my time every day getting the details just right,” Malik mused.

Liam nodded so quickly that he reckoned he’d sprained something in his neck. “And the time will fly by,” he promised, “and you’ll have something to show for it.”

Malik’s soft chuckle brought a smile to Liam’s face before Liam even knew what was going on. “I can put them up on the station. Like a fridge.”

“Sure your mum would love that,” Liam joked.

“And she’d show the drawings off to anyone who came over, because my drawings are what make her the most successful mum in the neighborhood,” Zayn said, catching on to the humor. “Even if I smudge the pencil a bit.”

“She’d probably think that you did it on purpose.”

Their shared laughs echoed into the compartment. Liam welcomed the warmth that his laugh woke up in his stomach. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that gentle heat that signalled happiness.

“I should get going,” he said in the most apologetic way he could manage, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve got the night shift and I need to man the helm.”

“I hate the night shift,” Malik groaned in sympathy. He paused. “G’night, Payne.”

“Night, Malik. Draw something amazing tomorrow.”

***

“Today?”

Liam groaned and rubbed his eyes to rid them of all traces of sleep. “What?” he mumbled, watching Niall’s excited face swim into view. “Horan, get the hell out of my bunk.”  
Niall smiled. “You should call Malik. I want to meet him.” He gestured over his shoulder with a jerk of his thumb. Liam followed his gaze to see Louis and Harry leaning expectantly against the threshold of the dormitory. “The boys already ate breakfast. We’re waiting on you.”

Liam sighed, tugging his sleeping restraints off and sliding out of bed. “C’mon,” he beckoned. “Tell the lads to meet me in the comm room. Bring me a bagel.”

Niall nodded and slingshots into the hallway. Liam followed him outside but headed down towards the comm room, sliding into the cozy little room with a sigh of comfortable familiarity. He checked the time. It was an hour until he was actually scheduled to wake up. He reminded himself to hit Niall later.

The three members of his crew burst into the room with palpable glee. Louis crouched on the arm of the chair, babbling about mission updates and sail data. Liam waved him off and pressed the button to initiate the call with the MSS.

Malik picked up quickly, and the boys hushed as if on cue. “Hello?” Malik asked.

"Malik, I've brought the lads today. They wanted to meet you."

"Cheers," Malik called through the line, and Liam's crew echoed the sentiment.

"I'm Louis Tomlinson," Louis began. "I-"

"You're an astrophysicist, yeah?" Malik interrupted. "I've heard about that solar sail project you're working on. Would love to ask you about it sometime."

Louis cracked a smile, and Liam saw delightedly that he was trying to hide how flattered he was. "That'd be ace," he replied. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good,” Malik replied easily. “Who else is there?”

“Impatient?” Liam teased before he realized it himself.

Malik snorted. “You know how I have such a busy schedule, Payne. Can’t miss my appointment at the window.”

Liam pretended not to feel his crewmates’ collective gazes burning into the back of his neck. He grinned a private smile at the console, then replied, “Yeah, everyone’s here. Styles?”

Harry leaned towards the microphone, offering a small “Hello” that was met by a string of questions from Malik:

“Cell biologist, huh?”

“That’s me.”

“Got any experience with botany?”

“Some. I did some research with the Delhi National Gardens back when I was in my third year of uni.”

“Think you can help me out with my crewmate’s irrigation once you get here?”

Harry smiled. “Sure.”

“Good,” Malik replied with a smile working its way through his tone. “Let me guess the other. Mission Control told me once. The Irish transfer, yeah?”

Niall’s lips curled into a delighted laugh. “That’s me. Niall Horan, engineer.”

“The true brains, then?” Malik’s raspy-soft voice lilted into teasing. “I bet these other three have you pulling your hair out with how they don’t know their way around a ship.” He chuckled softly when Liam and Harry voiced their protests that  _ hey, they were pilots _ , then he continued, “I’d love to talk shop sometime. I’ve been reading up on nuclear drive cores while I’ve been up here. Was hoping you could chat with me about their relative merits compared to solar cells.”

Liam loved the way that Niall’s bright eyes lit up with excitement. “I really hope you’re in favor of solar tech, because I’ll defend that to the death,” he told Malik with a mischievous light glinting blue in his eyes. “I’ll be sure to read up on my nuclear theory.”

Malik laughed. He retorted, “Be ready for me to wipe the floor with you.”

“You’re on,” Niall shot back, all warmth and enthusiasm.

Liam leaned back in the chair and watched his crewmates laugh with Malik. It was a pleasant feeling, like introducing one’s family to a significant other.

Liam’s thoughts faltered.

But Malik was just part of the mission.

Liam knew this. He knew it. He wished there were something more. 

 

***

 

_ “Payne is unstable,”  _ a news anchor told her colleagues, who all nodded in that dumb way that TV hosts did when they really weren’t listening.  _ “He’s not prepared for a mission like this.” _

One host nodded.  _ “Can you imagine the survivor’s guilt that he has? Who’s to say what he’d do to even the scales?” _

Liam couldn’t help the low growl that rumbled its way out from deep in his chest. He shook a bead of sweat from his face and bent low over the exercise bike.

_ “He’s a loose cannon.” _

He pedaled.

He pedaled.

They were going to save Malik.

***

Harry poked his head into the dormitory. “Liam.”

Liam folded his page down. “Hey.”

“There’s a call from Malik waiting for you. Niall’s just finishing up in there and he let me know so I could get you.”

“ _ He _ called  _ me _ ?” Liam couldn’t say that he wasn’t surprised. He’d always been the one initiating contact with Malik.

Harry shrugged. “I’m just letting you know.” He disappeared from the doorway, but then reappeared in view for a moment. His curls hovered in a dark halo around his head. “Everything’s cool with Malik, right?”

“How d’you mean?”

“Well, I’m just saying…” Harry trailed off with a consternated look on his face. “All I’m saying is that Mission Control wanted us to keep an eye out for signs of a psychotic break.”

Liam furrowed his brows at Harry. He shifted to sit up in bed, anchoring himself to it with a steady hand. The other one fiddled with the toolbelt at his waist. “He’s doing fine,” he said lowly, and it felt like a warning. Like protection.

Harry frowned a bit, but the expression was gone in a flash, hidden behind his neutral default. “I trust you,” he finally said, and that sounded a little bit like a warning too.  _ Don’t make me regret it _ , the words whispered. But Harry still stood aside when Liam passed him and went into the corridor. 

Liam headed towards the back of the shuttle, pulling himself past rooms of equipment and flashing machines. He flicked a quick salute of acknowledgement towards Louis when he saw him, and he continued on. He caught himself on the doorframe, where the door to the communications room was held slightly ajar. Liam peeked into the room with curiosity.

Niall was silhouetted against the soft lights of the room, and he seemed oddly tense. Liam tried to place the feeling that he could see in the carry of Niall’s shoulders. It could be sadness or weariness or regret.

“See you, then,” Niall called into the microphone, and a chorus of voices flooded back, begging him to call back soon. One by one, they petered out after bidding Niall an affectionate farewell, and then there was only one voice left. 

“I’m proud of you,” a calm voice told Niall with a soft Irish accent. “You’ve surpassed

your old man. Look at you, in space and all. You’re doing so well.”

“Thanks,” Niall breathed, and Liam could see the tension bleed from his shoulders. “I miss all of you back home. All of you,” he repeated.

Niall’s father chuckled. “All of us miss you back. You go back to work so you can come back to us quick.”

“Course,” Niall said, and though his back was turned, the smile in his voice was audible. “Night, Dad.” He ended the call after his father echoed the same farewell, letting out a sigh that left his shoulders slumped. 

Liam fidgeted in the doorway, staring out at the bright stars beyond a hallway window. He smiled wanly at Niall when the blonde got up from the chair. “They seem nice,” he offered.

Niall grinned, but his eyes betrayed his weariness. “Good to hear from them all,” he said. “They don't usually stick together, but they joined up to talk to me. I like that. That me being up here is bringing them together down there.”

“You're a good guy, Niall.”

“I certainly hope so.” Niall shrugged. “They seem to think so.”

“So do I,” Liam insisted.

With a smile, Niall pushed Liam into the comm room. “Go talk to our wayward astronaut.”

Half an hour later, Liam was twenty minutes late for his scheduled workout session and he didn't give a damn.

"What do you like to do back home?"

"I was in uni before, actually. Wanted to be a teacher. But then I got recruited for my IQ and the rest is history." Malik's voice turned soft and wistful as he continued, "I loved it, but then the WSA introduced me to biology and I fell in love properly. Then I completed my pilot's training on the side. Couldn't get enough."

"I went full pilot. Learned mechanics on the side but never really wanted to follow it out," Liam replied. He ducked his head, although he knew Malik wouldn’t be able to see him. “‘M not as clever as the rest of you lot. You and the rest of the lads. They’re all ace, really, but-”

Malik interrupted, “I’m sure you’re fine, Payne. Hell, I  _ know _ you are.”

Liam felt embarrassed by the flush to his cheeks even though Malik wasn’t in the room. “Thank you.”

“Don't mention it. I wouldn't lie.” Malik paused. “I like you, Payne.”

A smile broke out across Liam’s lips. “I like you too, Malik. You're not half bad.”

Malik laughed lightly. “You're not a flatterer.”

Liam shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Malik’s voice was soft and thoughtful. “I think I do.”

 

***

 

Liam slid into the communications room with a sigh of contentment. Work on some flight controls had consumed most of his mental energy, and he was eager for a break. He pulled up the contact screen and sent a call to the Mars Space Station.

Malik’s voice came in quickly, as if he'd been waiting for Liam to call. “‘Lo, Payne.”

“Malik,” Liam greeted in kind.

"Can't talk today. I've got to run some repairs and the bots need instructions." 

Liam tried to ignore the way his stomach dropped in disappointment. "That's fine, mate. All good over there, though?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Malik replied distractedly. "Till tomorrow, yeah?"

"Till tomorrow," Liam echoed despondently, and he found that he was only talking to the faint tone of an ended call. He tapped his fingers on the console. A knock on the door interrupted him. "Come in," he called.

The door slid open with a soft whisper, revealing Harry holding a notepad. He held it up and waved it half-embarrassedly. “It’s a song,” he explained. “Promised my mum I’d write her one up in space so that she’d have something that no other mum would have. I hope she was expecting something less than top quality. One man can only do so much in space, after all.”

Liam unstrapped himself from the seat, punching Harry on the arm with a grin that chased away most of the disappointment from Malik’s call.

It would be okay.

 

***

 

Two nights before they were due to reach Mars, the air felt thicker aboard the  _ Charity _ . Liam was on secondary deck duty and couldn't shake the oppressive feeling of anxiety in his chest. He couldn't breathe for some reason, and somehow he knew that only Malik would be able to help him out. He abruptly got up from his seat in the cockpit, patted Niall on the shoulder, and headed to the comm room, where a call from Malik was waiting for him.

Liam took a breath and then accepted the call. “Hey, there, Malik.”

“Payne?”

“That’s me. How was your day?”

“Mundane as usual. I read a bit. Sent a message to my little sisters. Tended the plants. Nothing exciting.”

“Get any drawings done?”

A faint crinkling of paper over the line let Liam know that Malik was plucking something out of the air around him. “Yeah, I got the northern pole today. Real pretty, but there was a big shrapnel cloud from. Well. You know.”

Liam hummed in sympathy. “Did the light look good on it?”

“Great reflections. Hard to get the details right, so it took a while.” Malik’s voice didn’t hide his appreciative surprise at Liam’s deflection of the topic. His words trailed off at the ends of sentences, though, so Liam frowned.

“When was the last time you slept?”

Malik’s sigh crackled through the speakers. “It’s been over a day. I know, I should be sleeping,” he added hastily in anticipation of the protest that was about to spill from Liam’s lips. “I just can’t. I close my eyes and suddenly I’m watching the cameras as Ant just-” He broke off, and before he could end his message, half of a sob escaped him and shot through Liam’s speakers. 

Liam spoke softly into the microphone. “Hey,” he soothed. “I know. It’s hard to lose a crewmate like that.”

“Did you?” Malik’s voice was small. “Lose one, I mean.”

“It’s why I left the force, you know.” Liam heaved out a sigh, leaning back in the chair. He messed with the belt holding him in place, recognizing the nervous tic for what it was. He heaved a deep breath and placed his hands on the console before him. “You can call me Liam, you know.”

Malik was quiet for a moment. “Call me Zayn, then.” Silence again. The speakers crackled with blank white noise. Then,

“Liam, what happened?”

Liam tensed up instinctively. "I-"

"It's fine-"

“It was horrible,” he whispered.

Zayn backtracked a bit. “Hey, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine. Hell, I’ve never met you in person. I just like knowing that there’s someone on my rescue team that actually knows what I’m feeling.”

For a few long moments, Liam let his end of the line stay silent. The familiar hum of the  _ Charity _ ’s engines soothed him in their omnipresent murmur. It’d been too long since he’d actually talked, and that had been with his therapist. And he hadn’t  _ actually  _ talked about it with his therapist. The gentle offer from Zayn was too good to resist. Liam found the words tripping out of his mouth before he was consciously aware of speaking. “It was the - well, they call it the  _ Benevolence _ disaster. Heard of it?”

Zayn instantly replied, “Yeah, I know of it. Happened the day of graduation from the academy. They were going to get you in and then make a big deal of it at the ceremony.”

“And obviously that didn’t happen.”

“So what did? Up there, I mean.”

Running his fingers along his belt again, Liam closed his eyes against the onslaught of memories. “Total chaos. It wasn’t expected. We were coming back from delivering materials to the Moon colonies. That’s what the  _ Benevolence _ was made for. Totally routine mission. We’d been out there for a couple of months and I was a big name back then, so of course they’d make a big deal of it. I was piloting for a four-person crew, myself included. We were beginning our descent and then shrapnel in orbit hit the right wing. We began to spiral and descend.”

Zayn hummed a small acknowledgement, and his voice was rasping and calming all at once. “You entered the thermosphere.”

“You know your stories. Yeah, we hit the harder part then. The damage to the wing left it too vulnerable; it fell apart. Burning debris hit the end of the body of the shuttle and it pierced a huge hole. Temperature levels were out of control and we were in freefall.” Liam’s heart was racing; he could hear the phantom alarms from the system’s sensors. “By that time, we were in the stratosphere and falling fast. We were over the Atlantic, close to Iceland; our initial trajectory was to England herself. Glad we didn’t fall there.”

“And what did you do?”

Simply, Liam replied, “My job. I piloted the shuttle and got us in the water. It was the hardest landing we’d ever made. The hole in the cabin let water in and we started to sink. We were stuck in the cockpit. The door was sealed shut so no water got in but we couldn’t get out. In the old models, there was no exit through the cockpit. We’re the reason why they got remodeled.” He remembered the water, remembered the cold and the heat. “Our suits gave us some degree of protection, and we had a limited oxygen supply just in case of complications. We went to the door, but we couldn’t open it because the pressure was all messed up. We had to wait until the water had filled the shuttle.”

Zayn’s gasp was barely audible. “You had to let yourselves be surrounded.”

“We did. And then I opened the door and we started to make our way out. I just started swimming as hard as I could, just going up, up, as hard as I could. We weren’t too far down, thankfully. I broke the surface and just waited.”

“And then?”

“And then a body floated to the surface. And then another.” Liam’s hands were shaking. “But not the third.” The water was so cold, so cold. 

“What happened to them?”

“The medics, when they found us, told me it was probably a matter of oxygen supply. They’d probably been hyperventilating, exhausted their supplies, and then they passed out. The cold water wasn’t much help either. They were dead by the time the medics got there.”

“What about the third?”

“The third-” Liam broke off. He struggled to keep his breath under control. “The third got caught in the shuttle. Their suit got pinned by shrapnel that kept them attached to the shuttle. The other two probably tried to help before they passed out. The other one died as they were pulled down by the sinking shuttle.” He stopped, clenching his jaw tight. His teeth ground anxiously against one another. “The body was retrieved in a rescue dive.”

“I’m sorry.”

Liam barked out a laugh. “It’s not your fault. You weren’t the one that forgot to take care of your crew.”

“No,” Zayn retorted. “No, I just watched mine die.”

That gave Liam pause. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m just stressed. You know. It’s hard, remembering and all.”

Zayn’s voice turned soft. “Yeah. I’m sorry too. About everything. I wouldn’t wish this shit on my worse enemy. Losing a crew is hell.”

“Can’t argue there,” Liam murmured. “We have shit luck.”

Zayn’s light chuckle sounded musical in the midst of the oppressive hum and rumble of the  _ Charity _ . “You’ve got that right,” he said. Then, after a beat, he asked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty seven. Feels weird that we’re still so young and we’ve already gone through all this. I’m still my mum’s baby, really. She always is trying to keep an eye on my health, bless her. She knows how hard I’ve had it. She’s trying, really.”

“So’s mine,” Zayn replied fondly. “She wouldn’t let me leave her house for a week after my first mission. Said she was worried about me not getting enough food up in space. Probably won’t let me out for a year after this.” He let the words hang in a comfortable, contemplative silence for a bit. Then he said, “Look, I should get some sleep. You talking was...nice. Therapeutic. It’s good to know that I’m not alone in all of this.”

“Isn’t there a word? For how you feel after all that?”

“Catharsis,” Zayn replied quietly. 

Liam rolled the word around in his mouth for a moment. It felt sweet and smooth and wispy. He liked how lightly it rested on his tongue, as if he could feel better just by thinking about a word. “I like that word,” he told Zayn.

“Yeah, me too,” Zayn said. “Me too.”

“Get some sleep, Zayn,” Liam suggested. It was too late for them to be up. “Call me again tomorrow.”

“Night, Liam,” Zayn murmured, and his side of the link went silent.

Liam stared at the dashboard for a moment. The word  _ catharsis  _ still coiled its way around his mind. It reminded him of smoking. “G’night, Zayn,” he said quietly, and then he leaned back in his seat.

_ Catharsis. _

He liked the word.

 

***

 

Zayn rubbed a hand through his hair. It was too sweaty; it felt lank and greasy to the touch. He grimaced. He would need to wash up before the  _ Charity _ made its way over to dock at the MSS. Couldn't be rescued looking like a mess, could he?

_ Liam. _

He’d be a liar if he said that he hadn’t looked Liam up in the ship databases once or twice or a few hundred times. The files and news stories were outdated by a few months, but they sufficed. Zayn knew how Liam had been hired, how he'd trained, how he'd fought to leave for Mars earlier.

Payne was selfless to the point of endangering the mission, and Zayn hated himself for thinking that that was endearing. 

But it was.

Zayn breathed out, and his fingers itched for the memory of a cigarette.

_ Catharsis. _

He thought it might be his favorite word.

 

***

 

“There’s Mars.”

Liam pressed his face to the window, watching in awe as the rusty face of the planet rose into view. “I never got to go to Mars before I left the service,” he murmured. “This is amazing.”

Niall chuckled and clapped him on the back. “It’s an experience, to be sure. Nothing like Venus. All clouds, that is.” 

Offended, Liam rounded on Niall. “You wound me,” he proclaimed. “Venus was my first new planet and I must defend its honor accordingly.” He reached back, wrapped his fingers around the rim of the window, and jumped up to kick Niall in the center of the chest. 

His friend flew back, laughing. “Mars is better!” he cackled as the momentum carried him into the next compartment of the shuttle. Louis took his place, sidling up to Liam, clutching to the ridges of Liam’s shoulders.

“D’you see it?” Louis asked, lips brushing the shell of his ear. 

“See what?” Liam breathed back.

Louis pointed at something to the right of the viewscreen with a finger straight and sure. “The station. The wreckage.”

Yes, there was the station, surrounded by a dark halo of debris. Cables caught the light from the ship and the sun briefly, sending blinding tendrils of light beaming in welcome towards the  _ Charity.  _ Liam’s lips parted with awe.

It was beautiful.

“I'm coming, Zayn,” he murmured, so softly that not even Louis could've heard him over the  _ Charity’s  _ hums.

“Time to approach!” Harry called as he passed by the window. “Come to the cockpit ASAP.”

Liam tore himself from the window and slingshotted down the length of the shuttle towards the cockpit. He and his crew strapped themselves in swiftly, watching as mission protocols appeared on their screens.

“Let's go easily, boys.”

Niall, Harry, and Louis nodded, flicking switches to get the shuttle ready for the approach. The MSS drew closer.

“ _ Charity!” _

The four of them looked at the comm in surprise. “Zayn?” Liam asked. 

“ _ Charity, the sensors ran another scan and there is debris right in your path. Docking at the wrong time could wedge it between the ship and the station. Critical depressurization would occur between the two vessels.”  _ Zayn’s voice was frantic. “ _ You must be careful. You have to, Liam.” _

“I hear you,” Liam assured him, and he tried to hide the tremor in his voice. 

“What do we do?” Harry asked him, all doe-wide eyes and nervous fingers.

Liam set his jaw tightly, staring straight ahead. “We land this vessel and deliver aid to the station,” he said shortly. “We complete the mission.”

“Ready when you are,” Louis called, and Niall echoed the sentiment after a brief moment. Harry nodded grimly and settled himself in his seat. He cracked his knuckles. Liam took it for a signal of readiness. He pressed the joystick forward. The  _ Charity  _ inched closer.

“Initiating docking sequence!” Liam called, and Harry fumbled at his wrist for a moment before aiding him with the auxiliary controls. The MSS drew closer, looming massive and chrome in the viewscreen. Liam glanced at the computer’s predictions. Were they coming in too quickly? “Come on, Harry!” Liam ordered, and Harry stabilized the craft.

“We’re fifteen seconds from handing off all controls to the pilot,” Niall announced, and the countdown flashed brightly on their screens.

“Let's go!” Liam snarled, all determination and panic.

Louis fired the starboard engines. “I'm slowing our approach,” he called. “Liam, correct your trajectory by two degrees.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure!” Louis snapped, and Liam adjusted.

Five seconds.

Niall stabilized the craft suddenly, and it listed to the side. Liam realized that he'd made a mistake in his own calculations and called a small word of thanks over. Niall nodded.

One.

“All controls are you!” Harry announced.

Liam let out his breath in a whoosh and hunched over the joystick. They sailed slowly at the MSS. “Extending docking bay,” he said, and he saw the debris in his path. “Firing starboard engine B to eliminate debris from flight path.” It was a risky maneuver, but a necessary one. The ship jolted with the firing, but settled quietly. The docking bay was so close-

“Locking now!” Liam called, and he pressed the button, cut the engines, and hoped for the best.

The station and  _ Charity  _ met gracefully and with a sound click.

Harry looked at him, panting. He pointed at his watch, tired face turning to mischief. “Thirty eight seconds,” he told Liam. “You  _ are _ out of practice.”

Liam stared at him.

“Harry can do it in twenty seven!” Niall crowed. 

“Christ almighty,” Louis groaned. “Liam just saved all of our arses landing this fucking shuttle on a fucking damaged space station and all you can think about is your  _ record _ ?”

Niall shrugged. 

“As much as I enjoy the banter,” Mission Control commented drily through the communication system, “you do have a mission,  _ Charity _ . Please locate Astronaut Malik and begin repairs on the MSS.” There was a pause. “And splendid job, Payne. Over.”

Harry frowned at the comm. “They never tell me I’m splendid.”

“You’re just fine to us, Styles,” Louis muttered. “Let’s go.” He unbuckled his harness and pushed himself out of the cockpit. “D’you reckon we should bring anything over or should we wait until we get Malik?”

Niall followed him, replying, “Nah, just wait till we find him. Guy’s probably spooked.” He turned and beckoned to Harry before pushing off from a wall and toward the connection between the shuttle and the station.

Liam smiled after them and grabbed his mobile communicator from the little bag on his chair. He pressed the little silver button on the side and murmured, “We’re going in.”

“Make sure he's fine, Payne. We can't afford to lose another asset.” Cowell’s voice left no room for mistakes. Liam sighed and clicked the comm off, stowing it at his belt. He looked out of the view screen of the shuttle. Mars loomed bright and cold before them. Liam tried to ignore the way he shivered before the face of the planet. He turned away and left the cockpit.

The others were waiting by the airlock door. “Open it,” Liam ordered, and Louis tapped in the unlocking sequence that would let them into the airlock. The door beeped pleasantly at them and its panels split to admit them. The four of them pulled themselves into the compartment. Niall seemed to be marveling openly at the production value of the space station. 

“Let's do this.” Louis tugged Liam over to the second door. This one was marked with a bold MARS SPACE STATION with the WSA logo emblazoned proudly above it.

“Opening airlock door now.”

Liam pressed the release button, and the door to the rest of the MSS opened with a soft  _ whoosh _ and a beep. The corridor before them was empty, lit by soft white lights that glowed in cold, impersonal welcome. The four of them pulled themselves through the doorway in silence. The air held an oppressive quietness.

“Guess he didn’t want to come see us,” Niall commented.

“Maybe he’s in the main control room. He was there when he contacted us,” Louis suggested, and Liam nodded, pulling himself further into the station. Everything was quiet except for the quiet whistling of machines as the station and the ship’s computers became acquainted. Liam didn’t want to admit it, but the entire station felt more like a tomb than he’d imagined. Sure, he’d braced himself for the silence and the grief, but it felt like Malik hadn’t been occupying these quarters for weeks. Like there was

Liam allowed himself to peek into rooms as they passed. Barracks were on the left, and a couple of adjacent rooms served as a medical ward. Proud signs brightly informed him that the command center was truly at the center of the station, close ahead. 

And still no sign of life.

They swung into the control room. Computers blinked at them in bland welcome. A couple of monitors were dark, but one showed the airlock between the  _ Charity  _ and the MSS. Others showed various labs. One was showing static. Liam squinted at the screen and felt his stomach drop when he saw that its label read  _ Upper Observation Deck _ .

Niall huffed out a questioning “So where is he?”

“About time you showed up.”

“Came as fast as we could,” Louis shot back, turning with the rest of them to find the source of the voice. “Nice station you’ve got here.”

“Could be worse,” Zayn said. “Could’ve gotten stuck with Uranus.”

Louis cracked a grin. “How are you, Malik?” 

Liam took the chance to actually  _ look _ at Malik’s face. Zayn’s eyes were dark and haunted. Sunken deep into his face, they looked shadowed and dark above the stark lines of his cheekbones. In the bright lights of the MSS corridor, his skin wore a grayish tint. His hair, lank and unstyled, floated lazily around his head. Despite it, he had a dark beauty to him, like his grief had turned him into angles and lines that had made him harder and more fragile all at once. 

But he just shrugged, shaking off the oppressiveness of his grief in favor of a brighter expression. “Hungry.” He looked at all four of them for a moment, and his defensiveness softened a bit. “Can’t tell you guys how happy I am to see someone’s face again.” His hazel-dark eyes fixed on Liam’s. “Certainly welcome after three months.”

“We’re here to make repairs and then bring you home,” Harry told him. “We finally released a news statement and the public’s rallying to get you back. You’re famous.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Just what I wanted.”

Liam turned to Zayn. “We brought some automatons over with us. We’re sending those out to repair the doors on the upper observation deck so that we can open it back up and do more repairs on later missions.”

Zayn shuddered. “I’m never coming back to this fucking station,” he muttered, “and robots had damn well be the only things going near the exterior of this station if there’s anything I can do about it.”

Liam put his hands up in front of him, surrendering. “Until we’re absolutely sure there’s no debris hindering the station anymore, no missions will send humans to the exterior of the MSS. I promise.” He turned to Niall. "Can you do a system analysis and pressure reading for the full station? And Louis, I want you to collect all of the data from the experiments and studies that were conducted on the station." When the two of them nodded and headed out of the room, Harry was the only one left; Liam studied him carefully. "Could you go and collect the plants that Astronaut Riach was testing? Be careful not to harm the irrigation system."

Harry offered a salute before pushing himself into a path into the rest of the station. "Call if you need anything," he called over his shoulder, and then he turned a corner and was gone.

Liam realized that it only left him and Zayn.

The two of them stayed still. Liam breathed into the silence. Then he cracked a small smile. “Nice to put a face to the name,” he offered.

Zayn matched his expression easily, and with the way his eyes glittered, Liam could swear he was staring into the sun. “Your voice sounds better in person," he finally replied, and his lips parted to reveal a hint of teeth in his grin. "Connection must've been bad."

"Surely that's it," Liam replied playfully. He sobered a moment, then asked, "Is it cool that I sent Harry to take care of the plants? I know you-"

"It's fine," Zayn interrupted, putting up a hand to halt him. "Don't think I'd be able to do it myself, actually." He shrugged. “Memories.”

His voice was more musical than Liam had imagined as well. He imagined that he was doing a poor imitation of that sound when he echoed “Memories” in solemn agreement. He’d known it well enough himself - that sinking, aching pain that would sneak up on him while he was making his tea or folding his clothes, because  _ Sophia _ had loved this tea and this was  _ Andy’s  _ favorite shirt that he had stolen away. Memories would always haunt him, just waiting to bite when he was least expecting it. Even now. 

“I meant to ask,” Zayn murmured softly, breaking him out of his thoughts, “but I wasn’t sure how.”

Liam turned to look at Zayn. “What’s that?”

“Do you think-” Zayn cut himself off, swallowing thickly. “D’you think you could see if you could locate their bodies? Ant and Ben, I mean?” He swallowed again and spoke frantically into the silence. “It would mean the world if I could bring them back to our families.”

The words fell heavily on Liam’s ears. He remembered how much his crewmates’ parents had hugged him when he’d come back with their coffins. “I don’t know,” he began carefully, “how we would store them in the  _ Charity _ .” He caught sight of Zayn’s wide, earnest eyes and sighed. “I can discuss the logistics with Niall. He knows the ship well and I’m sure we could partition off a room for that. Niall’s smart with that.”

“And finding them?”

“We could set the robots on that. Louis and Niall and I can work on that.” He tentatively placed a hand on Zayn’s shoulder. “We’ll do everything we can. I promise.”

Zayn’s lips parted into a full smile this time, one tinged with sadness. Despite it, Liam felt his heart stutter a moment before he returned the smile. “Thank you,” Zayn said. “It means a lot.”

“I’m sure it does.” Liam looked around the room for a moment, searching for a clue about what he should say next. He settled for rubbing the back of his neck and pointing back the way Niall had gone. “I’m just going to go and see him, then. Um.”

“Yeah,” Zayn agreed quickly, and his voice sounded higher than normal. “Yeah, I’ll just. Run tests. Or something.”

Liam nodded so swiftly that he genuinely thought he was about to get whiplash. He pushed himself out of the room; he was pretty sure he muttered “Right” at least four more times but he preferred to keep that little memory out of his mind.

He made his way to where he remembered the systems room was located on the station schematics. Even as he approached, he could hear Niall’s aggravated mumblings. Liam shook his head, smiling. Niall had had too much of an easy time running the  _ Charity.  _ He was long overdue for some heavy work. Liam reached the room and peeked in.

Niall’s hair was messier than usual, floating in hundreds of lazy directions. As Liam watched him, Niall ran a hand through his hair, demonstrating the reason for the unkemptness. He muttered to himself, typing commands into the station’s massive control computer. It blared a defiant message back at him, earning a scowl from the tech. “C’mon, you fucker,” he snarled. “You’re a masterpiece of modern technology. How about you start acting like it?” He frowned at the nearest screen, squinting at the symbols that the computer confronted him with.

Liam pulled himself further into the room, making sure to knock his wrist against a tower to alert Niall to his presence with a timid little clang. “Problems with the station?” he asked.

“What tipped you off?” Niall snapped. Then he sighed a bit and let some of his tension drain out from his rigid shoulders before continuing, “The computer is having trouble analyzing the locking failure. It’s telling me that the three astronauts here fixed it about a week before the incident, so it’s saying that everything is fine and that it was more user error than anything, but I know that’s not true. These doors automatically engage locking protocols, so human error can’t be it.” His lips flattened into a thin line. “Much as I love computers, this is annoying. Not a big fan of these big floating boxes either.”

“And yet you became an astronaut?” Liam asked with a smirk.

Niall shrugged. “Claustrophobia wasn’t going to keep me out of space. Been wanting this since I was a kid.” He turned fully, clutching at the computer to stay in place. “What’re you here for?”

Liam bit his lip. “Well, I was talking to Zayn-”

“To Astronaut Malik?” Niall’s eyes glittered with something that was half jealousy and half teasing.

“Yes, Niall. And, well, he was wondering if we’d be able to do something about Riach and Winston’s bodies. They’re just  _ out _ there, Niall. In orbit. It would probably mean the whole planet to him.”

“It’s not feasible.”

Liam’s heart dropped. “Niall!” he protested.

“Absolutely not. Not on this time schedule. Not with the bots that we have.”

Negotiation was quickly looking like the most attractive option. Liam offered, “I can take on the file transfer. You only need the bot to initiate the process. I can monitor and finish it so that the bot is free to do other work. And I’m sure the lads will help with anything you want them to do.”

“I’m not convinced.”

Liam clenched his fists in frustration. “Niall, please.”

Niall fixed him with a long, hard gaze. Liam could practically see the wheels in his head turning, calculating all the costs and consequences of adding another objective onto the robots’ workload, Finally, his eyes softened into a warmer blue as he sighed, “I’ll put the objectives into our mobile units. The  _ Charity _ ’s infirmary has freezing lockers as a little morgue so we can put them there. Do you have a scanner to spare? We’ll need to search the debris field that’s orbiting below the MSS. That’s probably where they’ve ended up.”

“Sure, sure, of course. There’s a free one in the main control hub where we met up with Zayn.” Liam placed a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Thank you. Really. It’ll mean so much to him.”

“Course.” Niall’s gaze went vacant for a moment as he thought about something. “We’ll make that our last order of business. The bodies should be fine out in the vacuum so I’d like to minimize any decay by putting them on the ship as late as possible.”

Liam flinched at the bluntness in Niall’s tone. “I’ll pass the message along.”

 

***

Eight hours later, the bodies had been placed in the shuttle med bay and they were packing all of the personal items into the  _ Charity _ . Liam found Zayn in the barracks, fiddling with some pencils.

“You need to pack your stuff.”

Zayn jerked his head over to the bag that was tethered to his bed. “Been done.”

Liam paused. “And what about Winston and Riach’s stuff?”

A wince jerked its way across Zayn's face, but he recovered from it well. He pointed over to the other end of the barracks, to the beds furthest from Zayn’s own. Two bags were lashed down to the mattress. “It was hard to do that,” he warned Liam. “Can you please take care of them? I haven’t touched them in a month and I don’t plan on doing so any time soon.”

“Sure, sure.” Liam pulled his way over to the beds, unlacing the bags from the mattress. He slung them over his shoulder, retracing his steps until he was hovering awkwardly by the door. “I’ll just be, um-”

“Wait,” Zayn said, jerking into motion to lunge forward and grab Liam’s hand. The touch was accompanied by a small static shock, and Liam’s fingers curled of their own accord, clutching Zayn’s hand tighter.

He leveled a quiet stare at Zayn’s bright eyes. “Yes?” he asked softly.

Zayn blinked, sweeping long dark lashes towards his cheekbones. “Thanks,” he murmured. “For everything.”

Liam smiled and tried to ignore the pounding in his chest. “No problem,” he replied softly, and Zayn’s returning grin was worth it all.

 

***

 

A week into their return journey found them taking advantage of the free time they had when their shifts overlapped. They'd decided to fill it with an elaborate game of baseball that used pieces of instruction manuals and some spare lengths of PVC piping.   
"I call Liam on my team!" Louis yelled, clutching Liam's bicep in a vice grip.

“Five’s not an even number!” Niall complained.

Zayn put his hands up in surrender. “I can ref,” he said, and backed out of their playing area with a smile.

"Liam is first to bat!" Louis announced. He pushed Liam forward and tossed a paper "ball" to Harry, who got in position to pitch. Niall arranged himself behind Liam as the catcher.   
Liam glanced at Zayn, who watched from his perch with wide, bright eyes. Liam gave him a quick salute and stepped up to bat. Zayn smiled toothily, and Liam felt warm all over.   
His team won the game.

 

***

 

The blackness of space was starting to look boring. Liam was used to working on planets or stations when he could at least do space walks; on a moving rocket, he couldn't go anywhere but the surrounding ship. He could feel the closed in spaces that the /Charity's/ rooms offered. Niall was noticeably on edge, and Harry and Louis had banded together to cheer him up. They were making it work.   
Liam was making his way slowly through the MSS to grab some snacks when a voice called him from the barracks.   
"Can you come help me with this?"   
Liam poked his head through the threshold to peer at Zayn. "What's up?"   
"My portfolio slipped and my papers are all over." Zayn was indeed surrounded by a halo of papers that floated lazily around his head.    
Liam slipped into the room and plucked a paper from the air. It was a vivid red sketch of Olympus Mons from above. The details were incredibly vivid.

“These are amazing,” Liam murmured, thumbing through page after page of art. There were at least twenty one of them, representing three weeks of work. 

Zayn ducked his head. "Thanks."   
Liam reached and collected another five drawings. He mustered his voice and asked, "Hey. Can I...can I keep one of these?"   
"Oh." Zayn blinked. "Sure."

Liam smiled. “Thank you.”

When he took the paper, their hands brushed again and Liam almost found himself blushing.

 

***

 

“Your hair’s getting too long,” Liam told Zayn. He tugged lightly at a stray lock floating above Zayn’s forehead, resisting the urge to curl it around his finger.

“I was thinking of shaving it once I got back,” Zayn admitted. “I think it’s time for a change.”

“I shaved my head once I got out of the service,” Liam replied slowly. “After Sophia. She, uh. She was in the  _ Benevolence _ . We had a thing then. And then we didn’t.”

“Which one was she?” Zayn asked softly, cautiously. He watched Liam with wide, honest eyes. Liam looked back at him, and all at once he knew that this was a man that he could trust. He looked soft and welcoming in the dimmed lights of the communication room.

“She was the one that was dragged down with the  _ Benevolence _ ,” he said tightly. The identification helped a bit, feeling almost cathartic as he gave words to the tragedy of the woman who had been his girlfriend. “I loved her. Once we were out of the service, we’d been thinking about marriage. Not any more, though. That’s just something that wasn’t meant to be.”

Zayn was silent for a moment. He nodded slowly. “D’you still? Love her, I mean.”

“Yes,” Liam admitted. “Always will, I think.”

“I loved Ant,” Zayn said. “As a brother or as more, I’m not sure. But I did and I miss him.” He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. “You know,” he said quietly, “when I was alone out there, I got desperate. I’d go up to the door to the upper observation deck and just float there for hours on end. I wanted to open it a lot of times. It would’ve been so easy. Just one set of locks between me and the vacuum. A lot of those times, it seemed like the best option at the time.”

“But you didn’t.”

Zayn nodded. “I didn’t. But sometimes I still wish I had.” He scrubbed at his eyes again jerkily. “I wasn’t there for them when they needed me the most. All I could do was sit there and watch them die.”

Liam looked down at his hands, then murmured, “You did what Riach wanted you to do for him. That’s how you helped him. I think that counts for something.”

“Not enough,” Zayn insisted. “I had to call his brother. I had to call Ben’s wife. I had to tell my family that my best friend won’t be returning to Earth. You try doing that while staying up in a space station above Mars for months on end and see how you feel.”

“Don’t think I’ll try that,” Liam told him with a half-smile that felt too bitter to be on his lips. “We’ve both had our fair share of tragedy.”

“Too much,” Zayn said shortly, and it almost sounded like a snarl. 

Liam frowned until he realized that the edge in Zayn’s voice came from a bubble of tears. He reached over and placed an awkward hand on Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn looked up sharply, and his eyes shine with unshed tears. “It's okay,” Liam said. “You'll get through.”

“How the fuck could you be so sure?”

“Because I'm a far weaker person than you, and I survived. You're brilliant. If anyone can make it through shit like this, it's you.”

Zayn’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Thank you,” he said with infinite gratefulness. He lunged forward then, pulling Liam into a warm, tight hug.

Liam almost gasped in shock, but it was the best kind. He wrapped his arms around Zayn and pressed his face to Zayn’s head and thought  _ yes, this is what is meant to happen. _

 

***

 

The ship had a hollow feel to it the night before they were due to return to Earth. They’d reached orbit, cut the engines, and radioed their status to Mission Control. But after that, there hadn’t been much to do. The five of them milled around aimlessly, occasionally joining in groups of two or three but never really saying much. There wasn’t a way that Liam could describe the kind of tension that hung in the air that night, but it pushed him to a window, where he felt the hollow feeling right in his chest as he watched the clouds chase shadows across the Atlantic.

A presence hovered at his left elbow, and Liam tore his gaze from the clouded outline of England to glance back at Louis’ wide eyes that were shadowed into a deep blue.  “Dinner?” Louis suggested, voice hoarse and uncertain, and when Liam nodded, he extended a hand to tug Liam from his perch by the window. The two of them didn’t separate their hands, not completely, on the way to the kitchen. Their fingers just twined naturally, and Liam was thankful for the touch. Somehow, even after spending months in space with them, he felt starved of contact with his crew. 

When they entered the kitchen, Harry, Niall, and Zayn had already strapped themselves into chairs that sat around the round table. Liam and Louis took the two open seats in the circle; Liam found himself staring right across the table to where Zayn sat. The other lad’s eyes gleamed a tired amber.

“You guys feel it too, right?” Harry ventured. “That...feeling?”

“The emptiness?” Zayn nodded. “I don’t know why.”

“It’s like I’ve wanted to come back to Earth this whole time, but somehow, now that we’re here, I don’t know what to do,” Niall murmured, and his eyebrows furrowed into a wrinkled mess. “I don’t think I want to go down there. I just don’t know why.”

Liam leaned back in his chair, frowning at nothing in particular. He fixed his eyes on Zayn. The other man was staring at the nervously bitten ends of his fingernails, picking at them jerkily. “What’re you thinking about?” he asked quietly, and Zayn hesitated before looking up and around nervously.

“They didn’t care that I was alone up there,” Zayn told them softly. His eyes had a haunted shadow to them. “All they cared about was their station. They didn’t care about me or Ben or Ant or anything. It was like their deaths were just going to be noted as part of a locking malfunction in the mission report. Like they didn’t matter.”

“Because they don’t,” Niall said bluntly. When Zayn fixed him with a stricken look, he continued, "Not to them, at least. Not when their ships are at risk. They can always get more astronauts. They need to shell out a cool billion to replace a ship. More if it's a station."

“But why is it so easy for them to forget us? Why don’t they grieve? Don’t the people in Mission Control  _ know _ us?” Zayn’s eyes were devastatingly wide.

“Because we’re dying anyway.” Louis’ eyes were hard and bitter. “The one thing they couldn’t fix about the astronauts was bone porosity. I’ve taken more calcium pills than you could ever imagine, but bone takes a long time to grow back and we don’t have that kind of time. The WSA needs people in their ships and we provide them.”

The five of them fell into silence, surrounded only by the hums, rumbles, and beeps of the  _ Charity _ . Liam started fiddling with the hem of his 

Harry finally spat out, “Didn’t you ever wonder what happens to those old astronauts after they get to be around forty? They’re  _ gone _ . Not dead, as far as we know. They’re sent off on those reconnaissance missions and everyone thinks that these people are being fucking heroes, just slingshotting themselves off to Proxima Centauri or god knows where for the sake of science. But they’re not going because they’re committed to the cause. They’re going because they’re  _ dying _ .”

Liam stared in horror at Harry. “You’re lying,” he said lowly.

“Why would he?” Niall scoffed. “You know that he’s telling the truth because I know for a fact that we’ve all seen the WSA memos that they send out. You remember that mission to Andromeda, the one that’ll get there fifty years from now? That one’s got Lou Teasdale and Cal Aurand on it. They’re not coming back from that. And they knew that. But you don’t feel the effects of the bone decalcification up in microgravity. Not like on Earth.”

“We’re too young to be at that point,” Liam countered, but the dread was still there, weighing heavily on his chest.

“We’re all young,” Louis said softly, “but I’m not even thirty and I’ve already done irreparable damage to my body. All for the sake of science. I don’t want to be expendable.”

“None of us do,” Zayn said. “Sometimes, though, we just have to learn to go with it. We chose to go to the stars. We knew the risks. But you just can’t predict what’ll happen.” He glanced over at Liam, eyes all wide and knowing. Liam met his gaze steadily, feeling the weight of the message he was conveying.

_ We never could’ve known it would happen to us. But we knew that it could. We knew all along. _

Liam sighed. “I think all we can do from now on is make the most of it. Astronauts like us are short-lived. You never see too many of them in the service for more than a decade or two. Let’s go and prove them wrong.” He looked around at the other four young men. They all looked wan and tired and too exhausted with the world. “We’re due to return to Earth tomorrow. I’m hoping for a good entry. We’ll be fine. I swear.”

“And after?”

“After...we’ll see. I just really hope that we’ll be able to get there safely.” Liam spared a moment to glance out of the viewscreen. Earth glittered beneath them, all swirling clouds and glimmering seas. A typhoon was beginning to spin together over the Pacific. “After we get back...I don’t know.”

“Do we leave?” Zayn asked, soft and sad.

“I don’t want to,” Harry admitted suddenly. He looked around at all of them from under the dark curtain of his curls “I love it out here. I wanted to be a pilot and I’m not giving it up now.” His eyes flashed a brilliant green from the flecks of light flying through the shuttle. “Why give up when you’ve just reached the top?”

The five of them fell silent. Liam looked at them all. He’s only known them for months or less. Harry, with his eager ambition; Niall, with his steady calm; Louis, with his fierce loyalty; Zayn with his aching love and loss.

And him, Liam, leading them all.

The  _ Charity _ ’s hum rumbled into him comfortingly. Liam patted the wall beside himself affectionately in response, sending a silent thanks to the vibrating heart of his ship. How could he give up a ship like this? He fidgeted with the strap in his chair, tugging at it in contemplation. “We’ll all think on it,” he suggested. “Best to get us back to Earth first. And then we’ll talk.”

Louis blinked at him with wide, owlish eyes that swallowed the light. “And then we’ll talk,” he echoed.

Liam nodded and left the room, heading toward the barracks. His head was spinning, spinning, spinning-

“Liam?”

Liam turned at the sound of Zayn’s voice. The other lad was clutching the rim of the dorm’s door, legs splayed out behind himself into the corridor. His hair waved about in lazy ebony ripples. He just hung there, waiting. Liam beckoned to him to enter. "What's up?" he asked tentatively.

Zayn rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "I s'pose that this is kinda a 'last day on Earth' kind of speech, yeah? Except we're on a ship and it's our last day before Earth."

"Yeah," Liam said slowly, drawing out the vowels.

"What I'm trying to say is- well, you've been ace, Liam, really - and I'm just saying that I probably wouldn't have come this far without you here." Zayn wouldn't meet Liam's eyes. His words came out dripping with his accent, heavy with his uncertainty. "So I wanted to say, um, thanks." He groaned at himself a second. "God, but I'm bad at this. Sorry. Um."

"It's fine," Liam interrupted, and he smiled softly when Zayn finally met his eyes. "I could never leave someone alone on a station."

"But you didn't have to do so  _ much _ . Like, you could've just checked in once a day and that would've been fine. But you talked. You listened." Zayn studied Liam. "Why?"

Liam shrugged. "You were good company. Would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. I like you, Zayn. Really."

“Really?” Zayn’s eyes glowed.

“I wouldn’t stay here talking to you if I didn’t.”

Zayn gave him a look that was at all at once withering and affectionate. “You don’t have much choice there. Where else would you go?”

Liam smiled wanly. “I s’pose you’re right.” He ducked his head, casting around for something to say. “Can’t say I’m unhappy right here. Right now.” He could feel the weight of Zayn’s gaze on him. “With you.”

“Ditto,” Zayn stammered out, so different from his usual composure and easy smoothness. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it for a moment. Liam’s eyes flicked to it, following the shine of his lips with an intensity that made him surprise himself. “Everything’s going to change, isn’t it?”

“Some things,” Liam agreed. “Not all of them.”

“Will we?” Zayn murmured.

Liam’s heart hammered against the cage of his chest. “I don't know what we are yet.”

“Can we figure it out?”

There was so much hope in Zayn’s eyes that Liam almost groaned with the beauty of them. “I want to,” he said, pulling the words from his mind with great difficulty, “but I don't know how.”

 

“They’re like the sun,” Liam murmured into the silent heat between them. “Like stars.”

“What are?” Zayn breathed back into their shared space.

Liam traced his finger along the sharp angle of Zayn’s cheek. “Your eyes,” he replied simply. In each speck of gold, he saw first Antares, then Aldebaran, and Rigel and Sirius and their own sun. The dark fleck in one eye shone with the dark invitation of a black hole; for all he tried, Liam couldn’t stop himself from sinking.

“Come on, then,” Zayn murmured, and then they were kissing.

Zayn’s lips were better than Liam had ever expected. Liam was satisfied with the soft, plush warmth at first, but then he needed more so he opened his mouth and Zayn followed suit, so they were  _ really  _ kissing now, and Liam was drowning in the heat of it.

He ducked to nip hot marks along the line of Zayn’s jaw. Zayn tasted of sweat and salt and something far sweeter. Liam didn't think he’d ever want to leave.

“The door,” Zayn breathed against his cheek, all heat and lust, and Liam was drowning in it-

He closed the door and the two of them pressed against it. Liam surrendered himself to the warmth and thought  _ yes. Yes, this is what I wanted. _

 

***

 

They sat in the cockpit, watching Earth as it spun beneath them. Liam could feel Zayn’s presence so close to him. It was comforting in such a terrifying time.

There was too much tension and he couldn't take it so he broke into the silence by saying, “Let's get ready to go. Initiate ignition sequence. We need a short burn to get on course to Earth’s surface.”

If he were a cat his hackles would have been up. "Something's wrong," he murmured, and the earth glared bright and furious and menacing in its quiet waiting.

“What's that?” Niall asked, turning to him with confusion written in his bright eyes.

He sighed. "Nothing. Let's begin our descent."   
" _ Charity, you are cleared for landing. Initiate your entrance to the atmosphere _ ."   
"Roger, Mission Control." Liam placed his hand on the steering joystick. "Harry, give us a short burn to push us out of orbit."   
"Got it." Harry pressed a button and the engines roared to life with new fury, sending them hurtling towards the earth. They were flying, flying-   
"We're in the exosphere. All systems cl-"   
The ship jolted to the side with a pained roar. She shook under Liam's unsteady hand.

"What was that?" Liam asked lowly, and for a moment he was the hotshot young face of the WSA, and his girlfriend was sitting beside him in the cockpit of the  _ Benevolence _ . It was too familiar; he prayed that it wasn't what he thought. When the crew was silent, he hissed, "What the  _ fuck _ was that?"

"There's damage to the wing, Liam!" Louis called, eyes flicking furiously between screens. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his breath fogged the visor of his helmet. "I don't know if we'll make it through the thermosphere!" 

_ Not again, not again, not again- _

"What should we do?" Zayn murmured faintly.

"Niall!" Liam ordered, trying desperately not to get overwhelmed by the hammering of his heart. "What's our current trajectory?"

Niall immediately answered, "Mostly still on course to the landing strip, but we were knocked slightly off course by the impact; the damage will affect the angle more as we descend. We're looking like we're headed for farm country."

At least that was fine. No civilian casualties if something went wrong. The shuttle shook again, entering the thermosphere with a dull roar from the exterior. The exterior of the shuttle glowed with the heat. Liam braced himself for an explosion. “Temperature readings?”

“The engines are secure, and the sensors report that the damage to the wing is largely superficial. We should make it.”

“ _ Should? _ ” Liam spat. “That’s not enough! We’re talking about our lives, a ship, and crashing into  _ Earth _ . Should isn’t enough!”

The ship shook and groaned again, jerking to the side. The impact threw Liam hard against the straps of his harness, and he had to catch his breath to bellow a terrified “Status?”

Harry groaned from his spot in the secondary pilot seat. “Another part of the wing just broke off. We’re off another thirteen degrees.”

“The right engine sustained damage!” Zayn called, dread seeping into his words. “She’s not going to blow yet but she’s close.”

Liam’s vision narrowed to focus on the rapidly approaching green in his viewscreen. “Come on, old girl,” he muttered to the ship that shook and groaned beneath him. “Just bring us home safe.” They were going to make it. All of them. 

They had to.

“Entering stratosphere!”

“ _ Charity, you must make an emergency field landing. You’re heading straight for civilian-owned farm country.”  _ The stern voice of Cowell was a shock in the panic clouding Liam’s mind.

“We’re  _ trying _ ,” Niall hissed. His pale eyes were too wide, too afraid. “We’re coming in too fast!”

“Entering troposphere!” Harry screeched; his hands were fumbling to open every parachute, to extend every flap, to slow them down-

The ground was growing from vague colors to blocks of farmland, frozen in the winter-

“We’re at the wrong angle!” Louis called. “We need to pull up!”

“Pull up!” Liam ordered. The ground was coming too fast and no amount of piloting could save them now-

“We’re not gonna make it!”

"Pull _ up _ !" Liam roared, and Zayn lunged, grasped the joystick, and yanked it towards himself with preternatural strength. Liam could see him straining against the bucking shuttle, and Liam prayed that it would be enough. It had to be. The nose of the plane bucked up before them, struggling to stay level with the approaching ground. They were going to crash, they were going to crash-

“Touchdown in five!” Niall called, eyes locked on the altimeter. “Four!”

Zayn’s veins were straining in his neck. 

“Three!”

“I can’t hold it!” Zayn screamed. His grip slipped and the ship jolted to the right.

“Two!”

They were coming in sideways; there was no time to correct it now-

“One!”

The ship crashed down upon the hard-packed winter earth. 

Liam's breath was knocked out of him forcefully as he was thrown against his restraints. The ship groaned and shook as it skidded along the ground at hundreds of kilometers per hour, and suddenly they were thrown sideways with the loudest noise Liam had ever heard. The right side of the view window lit up in flames.  _ The engine _ , Liam thought in panic, and he realized that gravity was their enemy.

He was so sluggish, and it felt like lifting an arm would cost a year's energy. But little by little, he managed to lift a finger, and then his hand, and then an arm. He moved to fumble with his seatbelt buckle, and somehow he managed to bellow to the others to get unstrapped. When he finally was able to turn his head, he saw Zayn looking dazed and confused in his seat. Harry was already stumbling out of his seat and offering a helping hand to Louis. Niall kept shaking his head, as if he were trying to clear it of water.

_ Sophia Sophia Sophia- _

_ No. _

_ Zayn. _

“Zayn,” he repeated aloud, gasping the word out of his heavy lungs. “We need to get out. We need to get out.”

“Out,” Zayn echoed, and he clumsily messed with his buckle. “Out, out.” He pulled himself from his seat and Liam reached for him, and together the two of them stumbled from the cockpit. Niall trailed behind them, coughing painfully in the smoke. They all moved like they were drowning in molasses; Liam could barely breathe from it all.

Mission Control’s helicopters were beginning to appear on the horizon when they emerged into the frosted English countryside. Liam flinched in a massive shiver.

Zayn stumbled out of the ship, stopped, and turned toward the ship. It was burning. “No,” he said, and then screamed. “No!” He started to run back towards the ship.

Liam caught Zayn, holding him close. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he yelled over the roar of the alarms and the flames.

“We have to get them!” Zayn screamed back in his face. “Ant and Ben, they’re in there!” He strained against Liam’s arms, throwing his entire weight in the direction of the shuttle. “Ant!” he screamed, voice cracking in desperation. “Liam,  _ please!  _ I can’t leave them now!” His hands gripped at Liam’s where they held him fast, frantically tugging at his fingers. Liam gasped as fingernails dug into his flesh, and he released his grip enough that Zayn was able to squirm out of his arms. 

When Zayn turned briefly, Liam could see the tears streaking down his face. “Please,” he whispered and somehow despite all the noise around them Liam could hear him perfectly. He nodded mechanically, and for a moment the flames were the rising water around the  _ Benevolence _ . 

“I’ll help you,” he found himself saying, and then they were both running. Zayn was the first one to reach the ship, and he ducked into the doorway nimbly. Liam followed without a second thought, and then they were in the ship.

The first part of the ship was untouched, but the infirmary's doorway had flames licking its rim. Zayn hesitated a moment before plunging straight through the middle of the doorway. Liam barreled through, trying to ignore the furnace feeling of flames inches from his face. The two bodies were in the freezers to the rear of the room, and Zayn wrenched a door open, muscles still weak against the gravity of Earth. Liam stumbled to the second, wincing at the growing heat of the steel handle, but he opened it nonetheless. The fire hadn't affected the cooling systems of the ship, and as such the bodies were cold and preserved. Liam grabbed the body - Winston, he noted - and tugged it around his shoulders, staggering under the immense weight from the pull of Earth's core. "Zayn, c'mon!" he bellowed.

Zayn appeared from behind the door with Riach curled around his shoulders. His eyes blazed with fear. He gave Liam a nod and began to trot out of the infirmary, ducking through the door sideways to avoid the flames. Liam trailed him as quickly as he could go. The two of them stumbled through the burning hulk of the  _ Charity _ , and Liam’s heart spared an ache for another beautiful ship that he couldn’t keep.

The two of them burst from the shuttle’s door into the blinding sunlight and biting cold of England. Niall, Louis, and Harry staggered towards them, bellowing over the small explosions and the roar of the flames. They took the bodies from their shoulders, sharing the weights between the three of them. Harry caught Liam’s wrist and tugged him with them, screaming that they had to  _ get away, Liam, we have to get to safety! _

Liam turned and reached out to Zayn, catching the tips of his fingers just as a bolt of terror crossed Zayn’s face like he’d been shot.

“His ring!” Zayn cried, lunging back at the shuttle just as the doorway that they’d come out of began to spit flames into the too-bright winter air. Liam cried out for him, but Zayn dove headfirst into the shuttle, his arms grasping for a tiny wedding ring that only he could see. He emerged swiftly, tossing the ring towards Liam with desperate force.

The ring fell in the hard-packed grass and frost, glinting gold and amber with the firelight. It glimmered softly next to Liam’s feet. Liam tore away from Harry’s grip to pick it up. It read  _ to my sweet Ben… _ in an engraved message on the inside of the circle. It was safe.

But Zayn...Zayn was burning.

He hadn’t seemed to realize it yet, but somehow his arms were engulfed in wreaths of bright flames. They glowed silently before they crackled in a fight with Zayn’s flight suit, and that was when Zayn began to scream. He clawed at his arms with horror and pain, and he threw his head up, gaze boring straight into Liam’s as he screamed.

Liam raced to him, stumbling over his own feet, shrapnel, and the force of the Earth’s gravity. He was too slow, he was too slow, he was  _ too goddamn slow _ -

Zayn fell to his knees on the frosted ground, eyes and jaw wide with agony. He writhed in the heat of it all, and 

Liam was covering him, holding him, and he felt the heat from the flames but he didn't care, he didn't care, he had to save Zayn. 

_ Zayn,  _ his mind cried, and maybe it was Sophia’s voice, and her strength gave him new hope so he held Zayn. “We need to roll!" Liam screamed, and he grabbed Zayn around the waist and threw them both to the ground. Zayn clutched at his arms, and Liam gritted his teeth against the heat, but he held Zayn tightly and rolled. The two of them rolled back and forth on the cold England ground, melting the frost on the half-brown grass.   
"Stay with me," Liam begged, and the flames died down. Zayn whimpered in his arms. A helicopter touched down and medics started sprinting towards them. "C'mon, Zayn, they're almost here. You can do it. Stay with me."   
The medics tried to pry Zayn from him, but Zayn held on tight to Liam with his ruined arms. "No," he moaned. "No!"   
"Take them both," Liam heard faintly through the ringing in his ears. He realized that he was so, so tired. His vision began to fade and he didn't think it was too much of a problem. Zayn was safe. They were safe.   
"I did it," he murmured, and laughed hollowly. He saw Sophia and Andy standing before him, smiling softly. He clutched Zayn tighter. "Don't take him," he begged. "Not now."   
The medics picked them up and carried them to the 'copter. Liam felt so, so heavy. He buried his face in Zayn's neck and coughed out a laugh. They were safe. Zayn was safe. They would not take Zayn from him now.   
"You did well," a medic told him. Liam thought that his face looked like Andy's. "Now sleep."   
Liam waited until Zayn's whimpers faded into a drugged sleep. He waited and listened and felt for his heartbeat.    
He smiled.   
He slept.

 

***

 

The hospital room was full of cards from children all over the world that were determined to write something to the world’s most well-known astronaut. Crayon moons accompanied scrawled “Welcome back to Earth”s and “Feel better”s. There were a few cards that featured clumsy red scrawls in attempts to recall the face of Mars, and Liam grinned at the absolute innocence in the drawings. In a chair beside the bed, a young woman looked up at Liam, put a bookmark in the novel that she’d been reading to Zayn, and stood to leave. Liam assumed that she was one of Zayn’s younger sisters. 

Zayn himself was silent; Liam finally fixed his eyes on the occupant of the bed. Zayn’s arms were wrapped in pale gauze all the way up to his elbows. He looked small in the hospital bed. When he looked up at Liam, his dark eyes gleamed from beneath the curtain of his hair. “‘Lo,” he offered as a greeting. “The others have already been through.” He jerked his head over to gesture at a bouquet of flowers on the windowsill. “Harry thought it was charming to bring some flowers.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Charming indeed,” he scoffed good-naturedly. He knew that Harry had bought the flowers knowing that Zayn would be amused by his intentions. “Geraniums?”

“Daisies.” Zayn grinned. “You really are clueless.”

“Bugger off,” Liam countered easily, glancing at the door to make sure that no nurses or family members were snooping. He held up the bag that he’d been clutching. “I brought a razor. Thought you might like to get your hair in order.”

Zayn heaved a sigh, twitching a lock of hair away from his eyes. "I've gotten used to the weight, y'know," he said, "but I'd like to get back in Earth mode. Half of it is burnt anyway." He scooched further down the bed, heading towards the foot. "Is this a better angle?" He tilted his head, offering it to Liam.

Liam smiled down at him, sparing a glance from where he was assembling the razor with a guard to control the length of the cut. “I could’ve done it from there, y’know,” he scolded, “and you shouldn’t be moving. You’ll aggravate the wounds.”

“Fuck the wounds,” Zayn grumbled.

“You won’t be saying that once you have to stay another two weeks in here. Liam flicked Zayn on the forehead, grinning when Zayn winced and complained faintly. He clicked the razor guard into place and flicked the little machine on. It came to life with a pleasant whirring noise. “Ready?” Liam asked, holding the blades up close to the back of Zayn’s head.

Zayn’s hazel-gold eyes were wide as he watched Liam. “Go for it,” he said, and Liam began.

It was a quiet, laborious process, but Liam didn't mind the work all too much. It was nice to sit here, close to the person for whom he'd gone back to space. He didn't notice it at first, but Zayn was taking advantage of their proximity; slowly but surely, an elegant hand worked its way along the bedspread until it rested gently in the hollow where Liam’s waist curved. Liam hid his smile at the light contact.

“Watch it,” Zayn grumbled as the razor dipped dangerously close to his ear. Liam answered him with a flick to the earlobe. He was surprised when his fingers actually struck something.

“Earrings?” he confirmed, and Zayn nodded.

“Just hoops. They’re subtle so I keep them in. Used to have little gemstone studs but they were too flashy for the job.”

Liam teased, “Bet you liked being flashy. Hotshot pilot, eh?”

“Like you weren’t the same!” 

“Maybe, but at least I didn’t wear my status on my ears.”

Zayn pulled away from the razor, angling his head so that he could fix Liam with a withering glance. “Tattoos?” he challenged, grabbing Liam’s hand to tap the WSA insignia inked from his knuckles to wrist. He wagged his eyebrows. “Flashy.”

Liam tugged his hand back, turning the razor back on with a pleasant buzzing noise. He replied, “You have that tattoo too. I know you do.”

“You caught me.”

“Seems to be my job.”

Zayn’s soft inhale was still audible enough for Liam to catch its noise over the whirring of the razor. “Seems so,” he murmured faintly.

“Louis called earlier,” Liam said, deflecting the subject away for another time. “He said he wants to get together once you're out of here so that we can figure out our plan for the future.” He paused. “How did your porosity results look when they scanned you? Standard procedure for astronauts when they become patients.”

Zayn deflated beneath Liam’s touch. “Worse than before. It's in the ribs now for sure. Doctor wants to do marrow therapy but it won't halt the progression enough to make a huge difference.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“I might.” Zayn’s answer carried the flippant, terse note that Liam knew denoted an end to the conversation.

He hummed a few notes into the silence, letting out a long exhale. After a couple of deep breaths, Zayn followed Liam’s lead and let out a slow breath, and some of the tension drained from his shoulders. Liam smiled down at his head. “Want me to get your face as well? I brought guards that can adjust it for facial hair.”

Zayn nearly crossed his eyes trying to look down at his own face. “I’m sure it’s a mess,” he admitted. “Could you, if it’s not too much trouble?”

“None at all.”

Liam grasped Zayn at the chin, splaying his fingers along the hard lines of his jaw. His thumb played through the stiff bristles on Zayn’s cheek, and his heart gave a pleased little leap when Zayn turned his face into the touch. He passed the razor along the curve of Zayn’s chin, grinning when Zayn wrinkled his nose at a few stray hairs that flew up to his nostrils. “Just taming it,” he promised. “You'll still have your sophisticated stubble.”

“Fan of the stubble?” Zayn asked, a note of mischief in his tone.

“Can't complain,” Liam replied, and he tapped Zayn on the lips with one finger. “Keep your mouth shut.”

Zayn grinned. “Sure that's the last thing I'd ever expect to hear from you.”

“You're hilarious,” Liam deadpanned, moving to the other side of Zayn’s face. 

“Are you quite done?”

“Just a second,” Liam told him. “You're so impatient.” He switched the razor off and gripped Zayn by the chin. "You look better when it's trimmed."   
"So I'm ugly when my beard is too long?" Zayn's voice lilted in a light laugh.    
Liam blinked at him. "Yes," he deadpanned.   
Zayn threw back his head in a full laugh, and the pain in his arms seemed forgotten. Liam couldn't help but smile.

“Sure my mum will appreciate your comedic timing.”

“Comedic isn’t a word.”

Zayn’s eyes blazed golden. Liam didn’t think he’d ever need to see the sun again. “It is so,” Zayn murmured, and his eyes slipped shut so Liam’s did too, if only to make sure that he wasn't seeing the world without the light in Zayn's gaze.

Liam would be lying if he said that he didn’t see supernovas when his lips met Zayn’s again.

 

Epilogue

 

“Mr. Malik, sir-”

Zayn waved a lazy hand. “Zayn is fine.”

The doctor nodded, swallowing hard. He looked down at his tightly gripped clipboard, clearing his throat a few times. Liam hid his smile at the guy’s attempts to stay cool in front of not one, but two of England’s best astronauts. “Astronaut Styles’ work in cell biology in conjunction with the World Health Board and World Space Agency has led to some stellar new advancements in bone density technology. He's put your name in for a clinical trial. Said you'd be the first ones to sign up anyway.”

“Both of us?” Zayn asked. He shot a look at Liam, who shrugged. “I wasn't aware this was a joint appointment.”

“Yes, sir - Zayn. Um. Yes.” The doctor pushed his glasses up with a finger. “The medication is experimental, but proven to be safe in controlled growth scenarios on synthetic body systems. It's designed to encourage bone growth where usually there is none, especially for astronauts like yourselves with depleted bone mass.” He paused. “The drug would ground you, though. You two will never be able to be in space for longer than short trips to the Moon.”

Liam bit his lip. He'd expected something like this.

“Any word from Louis?”

“He's headed for bigger things. Taking his son to preschool. He mentioned trying out the drug as well.”

Liam pursed his lips together for a moment. His fingers itched to fiddle with his belt loops, but he ignored the urge and instead twined his fingers with Zayn’s own. “I'm in if he is,” he finally said, looking at his partner in work, in life, in love.

Zayn shrugged, but the glimmer in his eyes betrayed his excitement. “Time for something new,” he said with a chuckle.

Liam smiled back and squeezed Zayn’s hand. He figured that the stars in Zayn’s eyes were worth more than any lifetime in space.


End file.
